Yesterday was a beautiful day in Toronto. At 11 degrees, we all felt that Spring had finally arrived. After a winter of running on my treadmill, I donned the same shoes but instead of my usual route to the basement, I opened the front door, breathed the fresh air and with some trepidation, I began to jog. Being my first run, I chose a looping one-kilometer route back to my house. At about 200 meters, I remembered. Running outside is not the same as running on a treadmill. You have to propel yourself! With old familiar palpitations, I persevered. Passing my house for the first time, I felt strong. Dare I say it – a little cocksure. The second time around was great. I could feel my legs burning a little but what runner doesn’t? Boldly I past my house and began my third kilometer. At some time during that loop, my confidence dwindled and at some point I felt sick to my stomach. As I neared my house again, another familiar, albeit hibernated feeling emerged. This is the feeling that all runners experience. Without it, we wouldn’t run more than a couple of kilometers. Without it there would be no marathons. This feeling of determination, unconnected to the exhaustion of the body, is what made me run past my house and head on for a fourth kilometer. Non-runners may ask, and rightly so – Why? The truthful answer. I don’t know.