In the midst of a regular life, running is the touchstone that breathes adventure into my soul.

I run because if I didn't, I'd be sluggish and glum and spend too much time on the couch. I run to breathe the fresh air. I run to explore. I run to escape the ordinary. I run to savor the trip along the way. Life becomes a little more vibrant, a little more intense. I like that.

In a hundred isolated places, on a thousand private runs, I've learned to accept myself, past mistakes and present limitations included.

I go to nature to be soothed and healed, and to have my senses put in order.

Running has thrown me into adventures that I would otherwise have missed.

Running is alone time that lets my brain unspool the tangles that build up over days. I run, pound it out on the pavement, channel that energy into my legs, and when I'm done with my run, I'm done with it.

I love running. I've found that no drug, no drink or substance can offer me the same feeling. When I'm running, especially on a trail, I feel alive. I love the feeling of my heart pounding. I love the heaviness of my breath. I love feeling like an animal. I don't know what it is but the further and harder I run, the better I feel and the more I want to do it. I have tried meditation, yoga, and various other types of activities to attempt to replicate this but all have failed. I want to run and run and run until I collapse exhausted and happy. I don't know why I do. I love running.

Why I run. I run because it makes me feel free. There is no other feeling that can compare. For the hour or so I put aside for myself to get out and run, I remain virtually thoughtless. Running is my 'me' time.

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.

Having a million things to do is an excuse FOR running, not an argument against it. There are a hundred excuses not to run. Being busy just isn't one of them. Why? Because taking even 20 to 30 minutes for a run will help you organise your thoughts, clear you head, wake up, and return to your tasks with a clarity and energy you can't get from coffee or even a nap. So if you're feeling overwhelmed or overbooked, put the to-do list down and lace up your running shoes. You'll be glad you did.

For me, running is a lifestyle and an art. I'm far more interested in the magic of it than the mechanics. It's that interest and exploration that make running fun for me. It's easy to become outcome-focused; for me the unfoldment of self is what is meaningful in running and outlasts any medals.

I run because long after my footprints fade away, maybe I will have inspired a few to reject the easy path, hit the trails, put one foot in front of the other, and come to the same conclusion I did: I run because it always takes me where I want to go.

Running to me is therapy. It's hard work no matter what. I'm obsessed with riding my bike, but running in comparison is challenging because it's all in your head. Running is 100 percent you, and it's a discipline whether you like it or not. You're the only one in control of your attitude, pace - everything. It covers all the basic elements of therapy - environmentally, psychologically and spiritually.

I run because it's my passion, and not just a sport. Every time I walk out the door, I know why I'm going where I'm going and I'm already focused on that special place where I find my peace and solitude. Running, to me, is more than just a physical exercise, it's a consistent reward for victory.

Why do I run? I run because running is empowering. Running is my therapy: a chance to clear my mind, to challenge my fears, to find inspiration and powerful ideas.

I run because I can. Because when I do, there's always the chance to be extraordinary. A chance to start unknown and to finish unforgettable. A chance to overcome all obstacles, to fight through pain and suffering to test your emotional limits and boundaries, to experiment with the potential of the human body and discover just how far you can push yourself. And a chance to feel like a completely different person, a person who inspires others, and who they strive to be.

When life hurls lemons at you, I believe there are two ways to return the serve: Lay down and let the sourness blind you or strap on your running shoes and boot those lemons back. Running was my way of escaping the mental mess as my outside world was crashing down. Those mornings spent pounding the pavement helped to clear the negative clutter in my head. The more I ran, the better I felt. The better I felt, the healthier I ate. And soon I started seeing the world in a brand new (leaner) light.

Don't be concerned if running or exercise will add years to your life, be concerned with adding life to your years.

It feels good sometimes—old fashioned, wholesome and gratifying—to do work that isn't on a computer. I need some kind of distraction, some kind of release. Running has been helpful, making myself ache in a physical way to release the emotional—kind of like an acupuncture needle. My running group here is in a phase our coach calls 'threshold training,' which is basically his foundation for strength and endurance. Threshold pace differs for everyone, depending on your fitness and experience. So we hold steady right at the spot where it hurts, but without crossing over into real pain. Kind of like a physical therapist or masseuse who finds the exact spot that is killing you and jabs her finger right there and holds it while you pant, sweat and squirm. If she pokes there long enough, eventually the discomfort becomes tolerable. I guess that's the point of threshold training—find your point of discomfort and work right there until you eventually acquire a vague sense of comfort. I'm glad to be here right now, poking at my threshold. I need to do this. I need the hurt, the understanding, the work and the metaphor. I want to get more comfortable being uncomfortable. I want to get more confident being uncertain. I don't want to shrink back just because something isn't easy. I want to push back, and make more room in the area between I can't and I can. Maybe that spot is called I will.

Running is a thing worth doing not because of the future rewards it bestows, but because of how it feeds our bodies and minds and souls in the present.