When I took up running, I did what I always do when attempting to take something seriously. I bought a bunch of books and tried to learn “the right way to do it.” I read about form, efficient running, biomechanics. I read about diet, training schedules, pacing, breathing. I read about heel and mid-sole strikes, pronation and supination and about the unfortunately named “Fartlek.” After reading all that, I’d go out and be silently judgmental about other runners’ form. Too bouncy. Driving toes into the ground. What’s with the arm swings? Breathing waaay too hard, fer chrissakes slow down before you keel.

Around about my first 16 miler, where for the last 4 miles I think I looked like I was desperately searching for a nearby hospital, it started to dawn on me that all these runners running by me may have been running for hours. Then after my foot injury and my 3 month layoff, when I did start running again, battling my foot, battling ITBS in my right knee, determined to train for the marathon but without hurting myself again, I think I looked odd with chopat braces and trying to not adopt some odd form. Actually, I did adopt an odd form, but I was trying not to.

The point of all this is that I learned that I don’t know who these other runners are, I don’t know what obstacles they’re overcoming to be out there running, I don’t know what mile they’re on, I don’t know if they’re an olympian, lowering cholesterol or like a dear friend of mine, doing what they love on a “good day.”

And then it hits me (I’m pretty slow): it’s not just runners. I don’t really know any of this about anybody. I can’t assume that what I think somebody is thinking or doing, what motivates them, what their personal history is that brought them here, I can’t assume that any of what I think is what actually is. I can ask. I can give them the benefit of the doubt. I can NOT assume that any of it has anything to do with me.