Best 12552 quotes in «running quotes» category

A finish line is never an end, it’s a marker that proves your dreams can become realities.

After all, what else did we have going for us? Nothing, except we ran like crazy and stuck together. Humans are among the most comunal and cooperative of all primates; our sole defense in a fang-filled world was our solidarity, and there's no reason to think we suddently disbanded our most crucial challenge, the hunt for food. I remembered what the Seri Indians told Scott Carrier after the sun had set on their persistence-hunting days. "It was better before," a Seri elder lamented. "We did everything as a family. The whole community was a family. We shared everything and cooperated, but now there is a lot of arguing and bickering, every man for himself." Running didn't just make the Seris a people...it also made them better people.

After joyfully working each morning, I would leave off around midday to challenge myself to a footrace. Speeding along the sunny paths of the Jardin du Luxembourg, ideas would breed like aphids in my head—for creative invention is easy and sublime when air cycles quickly through the lungs and the body is busy at noble tasks.

A když běžím těch posledních deset kilometrů, opět už pod noční oblohou, běžím obklopený celým týmem, který je tu, aby mě doprovodil a pomohl mi splnit tento sen, a uvědomuju si, že hranice nejsou v mém těle, v mých nohách. Vidím, že jsem mohl běžet mnohem rychleji během celé trasy, že jsem mohl běžet rychlostí, kterou běžím teď. Co mě to brzdilo? Byla to moje mysl, která mě rozptylovala a demotivovala. Kladla mi do cesty překážky a dokázala rozostřit obraz cíle, zmátla mě, ztratil jsem směr a ztratil jsem právě to rozhodnutí dokázat to. Tlačila mě, abych si myslel, že to nepůjde. Ale nejsem smutný, naopak, zjistil jsem, že hranice fyzických sil pro naše tělo neexistují. Na nich závisí pouze rychlost a síla, ale opravdové hranice, ty, které ovlivní, zda to vzdáme, nebo budeme pokračovat a bojovat, ty, které nám umožní splnit si své sny, nezávisí na našem těle, nýbrž na naší mysli, naší motivaci a na chuti uskutečnit své sny.

Aku lari bagai musang lari dalam bayang-bayang rimba, gila dengan wanginya sendiri. Malamnya malam pertengahan Mei dan anginnya angin selatan. Aku kehilangan jala dan aku pun mengelana. Aku mencari apa yang tak bisa kudapat, aku mendapat apa yang tak kucari.

Aku hanyalah fenomena alam yang tergantikan, seperti halnya air sungai yang mengalir di bawah jembatan menuju samudera.

Aloha Oukou. It looked like your soul was escaping so I put you in a tree.

And the man said, Why are we running? We’re in our own story. We don’t have to run.

And, finally, I run because there's no better way to see the sun rise and set.

And then there's the perverse joy of subtly working in references to marathon training in daily life, say at the post office or while waiting outside my first-graders' classrooms at the end of the school day.

A person with low standards will forever be walking. A person with high standard will soon stop walking and start running. Later, they’ll soon stop running and start galloping. The next time you see him, he’s either flying or soaring.

A runner is always attempting to control everything- time, energy, form, workouts, food intake, hydration- yet simultaneously conscious that she shouldn’t become controlled by any one variable. She is the agent. It’s as if each discipline is a necklace, and a runner must know when to put one on, when to take one off, when she can handle more than one, when she can’t . If all runners lose this talent for calibration, they end up wearing all the necklaces at once, and they sink. In other words, the art of elite running is often about the negative space. It’s less about knowing when to run; more about knowing when not to.

A runner's high doesn't come from thinking about the end result, only of the moment, one step, one breath, one heartbeat at a time. It's the same for a writer ...

A race is a life that is born when you get up in the morning and dies when you cross the finish line.

As a runner, you have to face the truth about yourself on a regular basis, and it makes you more honest. You can't pretend to be faster than you are. You can't pretend that you are better prepared than you are. You cannot pretend to be a runner, you actually have to run.

As one would expect, the Pope’s schedule is quite disciplined—he wakes up at four o’clock each morning and runs on the treadmill for an hour. I’m totally kidding. Nobody’s knees have time for that.

As I run I tell myself to think of a river. And clouds. But essentially I'm not thinking of a thing. All I do is keep on running in my own cozy, homemade void, my own nostalgic silence. And this is a pretty wonderful thing. No matter what anybody else says.

As every runner knows, running is about more than just putting one foot in front of the other; it is about our lifestyle and who we are.

As I searched for food perfection, and as I gained weight, I began to realize that the race for perfection in anything was the path to destruction.

As runners, we tend to think in exchanges and zero sum games: If I finish this race, I get a medal. If I run 10 miles today, I’ll have earned this burger. I have to hit these splits, otherwise, I failed. But sometimes, the things we get out of a run are far more abstract than a piece of tin to wear around our neck or a set of numbers on a stopwatch. A run can take us to places and people we would otherwise never have the opportunity to encounter.

As we run, we become.

As your training moves from base training to more intense work, to tapering, your nutrition needs to change.

At paces that might stun and dismay the religious jogger, the runners easily kept up all manner of chatter and horseplay. When they occasionally blew by a huffing fatty or an aging road runner, they automatically toned down the banter to avoid overwhelming, to preclude the appearance of show boating (not that they slowed in the slightest). They in fact respected these distant cousins of the spirit, who, among all people, had some modicum of insight into their own days and ways. But the runners resembled them only in the sense that a puma resembles a pussy cat. It is the difference between stretching lazily on the carpet and prowling the jungle for fresh red meat.

At around twenty-three miles I start to hate everything. Enough already! My energy has scraped bottom and I don't want to run anymore. I feel like I'm driving a car on empty. I need a drink, but if I stopped here to drink some water I don't think I could get running again. I'm dying of thirst but lack the strength to even drink water anymore. As these thoughts flit through my mind I gradually start to get angry. Angry at the sheep happily munching grass in an empty lot next to the road, angry at the photographer snapping photos from inside the van. The sound of the shutter grates on my nerves. Who needs this many sheep, anyway? But snapping the shutter is the photographer's job, just as chewing grass is the sheep's, so I don't have any right to complain. Still, the whole thing really bugs me to no end. My skin's starting to rise in little white heat blisters. This is getting ridiculous. What's with this heat, anyway?

At age 43, when I decided to run again, I realized that the images used to describe runners didn't fit me. I wasn't a rabbit. I wasn't a gazelle or a cheetah or any of the other animals that run fast and free. But I wasn't a turtle or a snail either. I wasn't content anymore to move slowly through my life and hide in my shell when I was scared. I was a round little man with a heavy heart but a hopeful spirit. I didn't really run, or even jog. I waddled. I was a Penguin. This was the image that fit. Emperor-proud, I stand tallto face the elements of my life. Yes, I am round. Yes, I am slow. Yes, I run as thought my legs are tied together at the knees. But I am running. And that is all that matters.

...be as fast as Usain Bolt, the winner is the winner, even if he crawls like a crab, his destiny is unshakable.

Bat asks Goucher if his leg is good, and Goucher shrugs. "All right." "Good or all right?" "All right enough." Batliner has been through the ringer enough, so he gives Goucher some advice he hopes Goucher will heed, "Be brave enough to call it early.

A typical race morning usually starts out looking like a scene from a zombie movie: individuals or pairs of people walking down a deserted street, all headed in the same direction.... Inevitably, regardless of the weather, U2's "Beautiful Day" streams out of loudspeakers.

Because I am, just as you are you. We don’t always get to pick who we are, Shelly Wynn, but we can choose to celebrate it.

Behind the facade of elected government are a bunch of corporate controlled gangsters running the country.

marathon: (noun) A popular form of overpriced torture wherein participants wake up at ass-o-clock in the morning and stand in the freezing cold until it's time to run, at which point they miserably trot for a god-awful interval of time that could be better spent sleeping in and/or consuming large quantities of beer and cupcakes. See also: masochism, awfulness, "a bunch of bullshit", boob-chafing, cupcake deprivation therapy

Between the Mile I have always counted the miles. Sometimes they came quick, Other times slow. The distance between things, The way I could know. Close could feel far, And far could feel near. The miles that passed too quickly, The ones I ran out of fear. They weren’t all the same, So I had been told, The unmarked trails, And the days I was bold. Some miles went down, Spiraling so low, When I was afraid to look forward, There was nowhere to go. The sunset came fast, And the day turned to night, But the trails could be endless, If I looked at them right. Everything I knew, All I was told, The conversations left behind, The people who grew old. When the miles stretched out before me, I wanted to sew them at the seam, Looking forward and then back, Holding everything in between.

Between the Miles I have always counted the miles. Sometimes they came quick, Other times slow. The distance between things, The way I could know. Close could feel far, And far could feel near. The miles that passed too quickly, The ones I ran out of fear. They weren’t all the same, So I had been told, The unmarked trails, And the days I was bold. Some miles went down, Spiraling so low, When I was afraid to look forward, There was nowhere to go. The sunset came fast, And the day turned to night, But the trails could be endless, If I looked at them right. Everything I knew, All I was told, The conversations left behind, The people who grew old. When the miles stretched out before me, I wanted to sew them at the seam, Looking forward and then back, Holding everything in between.

Body follows mind. If the mind compares itself to others this could lead to overtraining. Tune out what other runners do and how fast they run. Tune in, instead, to how your body wants to increase speed and distance.

But such a person also has that annoying voice in the back of her head constantly reminding her that merely "coasting by" in life isn't an accomplishment.

But I did it! That's the thing—I did it! What will my father say when he hears I murdered a man? Lorna, I see what I did. I murdered myself, too! I've been running around in circles. Now I'm smashed!

But, sometimes, especially late at night, when only the wind is awake with my thoughts, I feel an urgent need. I think of lacing up my tennis shoes and stepping out the door, already in a half run. I think of running and running forever, until I become part of the night sky. -The Art of Leaving

But there's a problem," Dr. Bramble said. He tapped his forehad. "And it's right up here." Our greatest talent, he explained, also created the monster that could destroy us. "Unlike any other organism in history, humans have a mind-body conflict: we have a body built for performance, but a brain that's always looking for efficiency." We live or die by our endurance, but remember: endurance is all about conserving energy, and that's the brain's department. "The reason some people use their genetic gift for running and others don't is because the brain is a bargain shopper.

Children run everywhere for a reason--it's fun. Grown-ups can forget that sometimes.

By unspoken agreement, we all picked an invisible line in the cracked asphalt and toed it.

CARE - Commitment Attitude Respect Effort

Don't fight the trail, take what it gives you. If you have a choice between one step or two between rocks, take three.

Coffee, my delight of the morning; yoga, my delight of the noon. Then before nightfall, I run along the pleasant paths of the Jardin du Luxembourg. For when air cycles through the lungs, and the body is busy at noble tasks, creativity flows like water in a stream: the artist creates, the writer writes.

Correr es la mejor Medicina que existe

Disease, then, is one of those bad experiences that turns information into knowledge and knowledge into wisdom. The bad experiences that make you love yourself and your body and the world. And make you know that you are in a game that has to have a happy ending.

Compared to her, Sam ran like a girl and told himself as much.

Enquanto corro, penso em tudo e em nada, porque depois não lembro do que pensei.

Every day in Africa a gazelle wakes up. It knows it must run faster than the fastest lion or it will be killed. Every morning a lion wakes up. It knows that it must outrun the slowest gazelle or it will starve to death. It doesn’t matter whether you are a lion or a gazelle. When the sun comes up, you better be running.

Entrepreneurs see the "no diving" sign and back-up to get a running start.

Every day is a fresh start; don't measure yourself by yesterday's troubles.