All I need are my feet and the ground.

No one has ever taken a photo of me running. But it is something I do on a daily basis. I average 3 miles a day, 5 days a week, which over the course of a year comes out to around 720 miles. I have been a runner since I was 15, so that means that I have run over 10,000 miles so far in my life.

Running is a major part of my life. Running is something that almost all other activities in my life are scheduled around. Running has not only improved the quality of my life, it has saved me (over and over again) from my natural-born self-destructive tendencies.

Obviously, as someone who has been an avid runner for 15 years, I am familiar with self discipline.

When you run 700 miles a year, you come to realize that not all of those miles will be rewarding. Sometimes, the run is painful, monotonous, and completely without joy. Sometimes, you feel too tired or too hungry to run. Sometimes, you would rather be lazy and drink a beer while watching Family Guy. But, when you have spent thousands of miles in a constant struggle for breath, you have learned that you are never as tired as you think you are. You have learned that within less than a minute into the run, you don't feel tired anymore - you feel strong and free.

You also learn that the Corona tastes so much BETTER after a run, when you are very, very, very thirsty.

After 30 years of being alive, I have learned how to stay physically fit and still be able to eat chocolate. I'm pretty grateful for that, because I have zero will power when it comes to sweets.

What I wish I could do is transfer that strong self discipline, success, and confidence into my professional life. If I could just learn how to be a runner in my career, I could maybe move on to the next level of my life.

The thing I love most about running is that it feels slightly like you have grown wings and can fly. I love that no matter what happens in the other parts of my life, nobody can take my run away from me. All I need are my feet and the ground, and I can escape.

Sometimes, I like to imagine what it might be like to go to Sudan or Liberia. Somewhere terrifying and hard. Somewhere that I could be put to good use. Somewhere that would teach me how easy I have it here in my little life in the states. And I like to imagine what it might be like to run barefoot in the village, maybe with some teenagers. I like to imagine how fast they would leave me in the dust.