The true runner is a very fortunate person. He has found something in him that is just perfect. – George Sheehan
I am a lonely figure
when I run the roads.
People wonder how far I have come,
how far I have to go.
They see me alone
and friendless
on a journey that has no visible beginning
or end.
I appear isolated and vulnerable,
a homeless creature.
It is all they can do
to keep from stopping the car
and asking
if they can take me
wherever I’m going.
I know this
because I feel it myself.
When I see the runner
I have much the same thoughts.
No matter how often I run the roads myself,
I am struck by how solitary
my fellow runner appears.
The sight of a runner
at dusk
or in inclement weather
makes me glad to be safe
and warm in my car
and headed for home.
And at those times,
I wonder
how I can go out there myself,
how I can leave the comfort
and warmth
and that feeling
of intimacy and belonging,
to do this distracted thing.
But when finally I am there,
I realize
it is not comfort
and warmth I am leaving,
not intimacy
and belonging I am giving up,
but the loneliness
that pursues me
this day and every day.
I know that the real loneliness,
the real isolation,
the real vulnerability, begins long before
I put on my running shoes.
― George Sheehan
