In February of 2007, about 3½ years ago, I started running. I haven’t run as consistently as I should, but each autumn I’ve come back to it. This morning I ran a bit over 10 miles, which is decent but was not my fastest or longest run.
There was, however, something special about it: I ran my 1000th mile.
It’s an artificial milestone, really—I’ve run countless times without the Nike+ chip, and the chip is only so accurate. And yet … it’s still amazing to see that number.
I occasionally go back and reread some of those old blog posts. I used to prefer the ‘mill to the outdoors. I used to be reliant on gels for any distance longer than 5km. I used to loathe running, but did it out of a sense of fitness obligation. Etc, etc, etc.
I don’t blog my runs these days, but I ought to. How else will I get perspective another 1000 miles from now?