Friday, March 13, 2015


Today is my son, Logan's, 23nd birthday.

Upon graduation from high school, Logan served for four years in the United States Marine Corps. He earned an honorable discharge last April, having earned the rank of corporal.

Today, he is a student at Penn State,working on a degree in secondary education. He wants to teach history (like his dad).

On the day Logan was born, I celebrated by going out for a run, as I did for the birth of my daughters, Kelly and Megan, and as I did, to mourn, on the day of my father's death.

My daughter Kelly has run several marathons. Megan, a league champion at the 800 meter distance as a high school student, continues to run 5K races. And Logan, who can practically bench press a compact car, never did a whole lot of running, but when he was home on leave two summers ago, he put his old man through some fast paces on a three mile run through the mountains.

Many of the milestones of our lives are memorialized through our running.

Some of my oldest and dearest friends, who I wrote about in my first book, Running Shorts,, in the chapter entitled, 'Cast of Characters,' have entered my life thanks to running.

Running defines us. It's who we are. It grounds us. Running elevates our happy times and soothes us during times of sadness.

Many of us have heard from the haters who say, "You're gonna die out there on the road some day."

You know what?

That's not such a bad way to go.