Toeing the starting line of a marathon, regardless of the language you speak, the God you worship or the color of your skin, we all stand as equal. Perhaps the world would be a better place if more people ran.

Most dreams die a slow death. They're conceived in a moment of passion, with the prospect of endless possibility, but often languish and are not pursued with the same heartfelt intensity as when first born. Slowly, subtly, a dream becomes elusive and ephemeral. People who've lost their own dreams become pessimists and cynics. They feel like the time and devotion spent on chasing their dreams were wasted. The emotional scars last forever.

As long as my heart's still in it, I'll keep going. If the passion's there, why stop?

If someone had said to me before I started doing this that a human being is capable of running 100 miles nonstop, I would have just said: 'No way. I mean, how?' If you just go out there and run 100 miles, it breaks down a lot of barriers in terms of self-imposed limitations.

Pain is the body's way of ridding itself of weakness.

For me, as for so many runners, there really are no finish lines. Runs end; running doesn't.

I've raced on all seven continents at least twice. I've probably run thousands of races. But the single race that I'm most proud is a 10K. Yes, a 10K. I ran it with my daughter on her 10th birthday.