Way before we were scratching pictures on caves or beating rhythms on hollow trees, we were perfecting the art of combining our breath and mind and muscles into fluid self-propulsion over wild terrain. and when our ancestors finally did make their first cave paintings, what were the first designs? A downward slash, lightening bolts through the bottom and middle- behold, the Running Man.
Running was indispensable; it was the way we survived and thrived and spread across the planet. You ran to eat and to avoid being eaten; you ran to find a mate and impress her, and with her you ran off to start a new life together. You had to love running or you wouldn't live to love anything else. And like everything else we love- everything we sentimentally call our 'passions' and 'desires'- its really an encoded ancestral necessity. We were born to run; we were born because we run.
From Born to run by Christopher McDougall, I really recommend the read!
I just looked out my window to see a man running past, the typical Brighton type- beard, thin well-worn T-shirt, white running shoes- battling against the wind and hill, red faced and sweaty. I'm thinking I'm gonna put my runners on and follow him, see if I can impress him, this is 2013 after all!