I run because I enjoy it — not always, but most of the time. I run because I have always run — not trained, but run. What do I get? Joy and pain. Good health and injuries. Exhilaration and despair. A feeling of accomplishment and a feeling of waste. The sunrise and the sunset.

That's the beauty of starting lines: Until you begin a new venture, you never know what awaits you.

In running, it doesn't matter how fast or slow you are relative to anyone else. You set your own pace and you measure your own progress. You can't lose this race because you're not running against anyone else. You're only running against yourself, and as long as you are running, you are winning.

Winning has nothing to do with racing. Most days don't have races anyway. Winning is about struggle and effort and optimism, and never, ever, ever giving up.

I like to say, and I truly believe, that every run brings new experiences. You just don't know what they might be until you actually do the run. That's one of my major reasons for pushing out the front door as often as I do-the adventure of it all.

It's wrong to believe that you need a certain physical body type to run. All body types can run. It's not about your legs, muscles, or cellulite. It's not about the physical side of things. If you train your brain, your body will follow. It's that simple. The hard part isn't getting your body in shape. The hard part is getting your mind in shape.

As runners, we all go through many transitions-- transitions that closely mimic the larger changes we experience in a lifetime. First, we try to run faster. Then we try to run harder. Then we learn to accept ourselves and our limitations, and at last, we can appreciate the true joy and meaning of running.