Yesterday I ran my first Roma-Ostia half marathon. The course follows a long straight road which leads out of the city, into the suburbs and ends at the seafront where the finish line is. Most of it is basically in the middle of a rather ugly nowhere. Despite this -and despite the grim, cold, rainy weather- there were so many people scattered along the way shouting, waving and cheering us on. About halfway into the race I went past a man who told his kids to continue banging their pot lids to make us go faster. I felt genuinely happy
assistance, without external help, with humility,
without wanting to dominate the mountain, because
we know that it’s much stronger than we are and it will
take us where it wants us to go. We’ll learn to
coexist with the real world, the world of rocks,
of plants, ice, the world beneath the cement.
With what was here before us and will be
here long after we’re gone.
Scott Jurek talks about running with the Tarahumara, and coming to terms with what running means to him today.
”..To prove that the company [Adidas] understood the sport of running, the ‘‘Runners. Yeah, We’re Different’’ campaign, which began in 1998, targeted the serious runner, a relatively small and anonymous audience.”
one of my favorite ad campaigns ever
I love this campaign
"Wir bauen an dir mit zitternden Händen,
und wir türmen Atom auf Atom.
Aber wer kann dich vollenden,
per destare la lingua
dal suo torpore.
Ma la balbuzie non basta
e se anche fa meno rumore
è guasta lei pure. Così
a un mezzo parlare. Una volta
qualcuno parlò per intero
e fu incomprensibile. Certo
credeva di essere l’ultimo
parlante. Invece è accaduto
che tutti ancora parlano
e il mondo
da allora è muto.
– E. Montale, Incespicare, da Satura
Edvard Munch, Consolation