Show up. This is 90 percent of the battle. But showing up is more than just being there on race day; it's a lifestyle. To be successful, you have to 'show up' every day. To really succeed, you have to show up mentally and emotionally as well as physically.

Once I asked a friend how he got through races. In his 50s then and still running speedy 5Ks and impressive half marathons, he said that when he hit a bad patch, he'd remember that he had been expecting it. He would feel bad for a while, but then, he told himself he knew he'd feel good again. 'You'll feel good again,' I sometimes tell myself when I want to quit.

If one can stick to the training throughout the many long years, then will power is no longer a problem. It's raining? That doesn't matter. I am tired? That's besides the point. It's simply that I just have to.

In the midst of regular life, running is the touchstone that breathes adventure into my soul. I can feel the trail under my feet, the press of the hill, the gallop of the track, the burn of my lungs, the stir of wonder and possibility. Running reminds me that there is more to me than what is readily apparent much of the time. I don't always need to see it, but oh how I need to know it's there.

To try is to live; not to try is to die. That is the real essence of life; the doing of something, irrespective of success or failure.

I use my running (and deliberately shun the word 'training') as the daily reset button. The harder and busier the day is the more I need to do an easy run. This relaxation counters the toxic levels of stress that comes with being overextended as a family physician and other work commitments. If running were another stress it would not be sustainable, therefore my entire running is relaxed... We all have busy and stressful lives and the running must fit into the 'yin' of the 'yin and yang' circle.

I think [my success] comes mainly from the passion I have for running. That's what keeps me coming back after all the hardships. I've had my injuries and my down years. People say I'm a big talent. But a lot of runners have good leg speed. The reason I keep coming back is because I have a fire in my belly.

Somewhere in the world someone is training when you are not. When you race him, he will win.

You woke up this morning with a plan of how your day would go, and that plan included running. But everything that has happened since has conspired to knock you out of your plan and stop you from running. Stick to the plan, and run. True, it may be a fight. True, you will have to hustle. But make no mistake: today you're making a stand; you're fighting like hell. You're not giving in; you're not caving. The plan includes running, and you're sticking with it.

The music of a marathon is a powerful strain, one of those tunes of glory. It asks us to forsake pleasures, to discipline the body, to find courage, to renew faith and to become one's own person, utterly and completely.

It's not so much that I began to run, but that I continued.

I do, after all, love a challenge. Not just the result at the end, but the drudgery in the middle, the hard work, the sweat, the mess of transformation. I love the process of getting there, especially when 'there' isn't a fixed point, but the constant renaming as each finish line morphs into another start line.

When I come back from a run feeling like I accomplished something, like I'm a slightly different person than when I began, then I feel like I have had a good run.

Indeed, in many ways, sweat is the stuff of life. Most people would agree that working up a sweat is the surest sign that you've given it your all, whatever your game.

Nonrunners don't care that much about your running. It's fine to chat about running with nonrunners. If they ask you about it, of course, it'd be rude not to. But for everyone's sake, know your limits. 

Most people never run far enough on their first wind to find out they've got a second.

You can't flirt with the track. You must marry it.

Being defeated is often a temporary condition. Giving up is what makes it permanent.

You need to enjoy the running experience if you want to continue and succeed at it. But this can take time. You need to be patient. Running doesn't always jump out at you as the greatest thing since sliced bread. Eventually though, you realize it is.

If you want to become faster, you have to train for it, and that means doing speedwork. Sounds obvious, but I always thought I could improve just by going a little faster on my daily training runs. I improved, but only marginally. It took me 12 years to learn that speedwork was the way to go.