The Paradox of the Distance Runner

I still remember my first long run. I was 19, home from college, and it was one of those perfect summer days: bright and blue and not too humid. When I got to the end of the trail, my typical turnaround point, I decided, on a whim, to continue. I added one mile, then another, then another. By the time I returned to my parents’ house, I’d completed 10 miles. My whole system buzzed with adrenaline and endorphins. I felt like a god.