If you run, you are a runner. It doesn't matter how fast or how far. It doesn't matter if today is your first day or if you've been running for twenty years. There is no test to pass. No license to earn. No membership card to get. You just run.

The fight is won or lost far away from witnesses - behind the lines, in the gym and out there on the road, long before I dance under those lights.

The best time to work out is when you know you can stick with a schedule.

For every runner who tours the world running marathons, there are thousands who run to hear the leaves and listen to the rain, and look to the day when it is suddenly as easy as a bird in flight.

If you haven't been exercising, your body will undoubtedly protest this change in its comfortable downhill direction. You won't like it at first. You may even hate it. But be proactive. Do it anyway. Even if it's raining on the morning you've scheduled to jog, do it anyway. "Oh good, it's raining." I get to develop my willpower as well as my body.

There are no limits. There are only plateaus and you must not stay there. You must go beyond them.

That's what running does to lives. It's not just exercise. It's not just achievement. It's a daily discipline that has nothing to do with speed, weight, social status, sexual orientation, political affiliation, where you live, what car you drive, or whether anyone anywhere loves you. It's about the slow and painful process of being the best you can be. That's why the first step out the door is always so hard. That's when we choose between settling for average and being a superhero version of ourselves.

There may be people that have more talent than you, but there's no excuse for anyone to work harder than you do.

Results will show up when you do.

O running, thank you for the calorie deficit which you, in your infinite wisdom, hath provided me for this mean. Amen.

RUNNING! If there's any activity happier, more exhilarating, more nourishing to the imagination, I can't think of what it might be. In running, the mind flees with the body, the mysterious efflorescence of language seems to pulse in the brain, in rhythm with our feet and the swinging of our arms.

I think I get addicted to the feeling associated with the end of a long run. I love feeling empty, clean, worn out, starving and sweat-purged. I love the good ache of muscles that have done me proud.

I always loved running. It was something you could do by yourself and under your own power. You could go in any direction, as fast or slow as you wanted, fighting the wind if you felt like it, seeking out new sights just on the strength of your feet and the courage of your lungs.

Sweat cleanses from the inside. It comes from places a shower will never reach.

Fitness to me isn't about a crunch or a push up, it's about taking your power back.

For me, running is a lifestyle and an art. I'm far more interested in the magic of it than the mechanics.

Every day, I stop halfway through my run for five minutes, look around, and enjoy the surroundings. I'm reminded of why I do this and why I love it so much.

You didn't beat me. You merely finished in front of me.

I will beat her. I will train harder. I will eat cleaner. I know her weakness. I know her strengths. I've lost to her before. But not this time. She is going down. I have the advantage because I know her well. She is the Old Me.

Find your passion, and run with it.