All of us who run are writers. We might not sit down at the keyboard and tap away each day. We might toil as letter carriers, musicians or bicycle mechanics (just a few of the runners I have encountered in recent weeks), not having written anything longer than a grocery list or resumé since turning in that last bluebook on that glorious bittersweet May day in the year Whatever It Was when our schooling ended. No matter. If we run, we give ourselves space, and in that space we write stories, about the guy who turned left in front of us without signaling, about the autumn leaves raining down in a big gust, about the dog owner we see on this trail every week carrying a leash that is never connected to her yappy, heel-nipping dog. Dipping away from the sights and sounds, our runs can be a sieve, separating out pieces of life, from the prosaic to the profound, which somehow line up now into a tale that happily or not makes sense for the first time. Yes, we also write about our runs while we run. We write brief notes about a knee that feels pretty good and we write epic tales with unexpected plot twists – the marathon, the blisters, the train that blocked the course. However much we write, when we run we add to our continuing story, bit by bit giving it new depth and texture that help us understand who we are. Maybe posts here can add to that back-and-forth amplification. We want this forum to offer an outlet for a variety of voices. I’ll check in regularly. So will T.J. Quinn of ESPN and others. We hope you’ll catch up with us often along the running-and-writing trail.
– Pete Danko