I’ve always believed in control. Not the kind that is commandeering or invasive. But the open and wholesome understanding that there are some things, some elements, and some boundaries which the human being was meant not to interfere with.

For one can train, and study, and work and grind oneself literally three layers deep into epidermal tissue in the pursuit of a single goal. But one ought not try to control that which they cannot.

I’m a resident of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts. A member of the northeast corridor which was baptized the first “new” England, in the New World. Our climates are that of freezing cold and thawing heat. And more.

Weather is one thing that the endurance athlete cannot control. It may be forecasted, studied, and anticipated. But when the day finally comes, as it will, the weather will always be transcendental.

My ancestry is that of Anglo blood. It is axiomatic that such a race is not inherently familiar with UV rays. I do, on occasion, tan. But it takes a long and painful process unbeknownst to those outside my own skin. As a newly received member of the Trustees of Reservations, I endeavored to the coast, to which I suffered the sunburn of my life. Blisters. Chills. Loss of thermostat equilibrium.

I ceased from training yesterday, only to resume today - The hottest day of the calendar year. The Commonwealth exploded with solar flare temperatures exceeding 100 degrees. Inside the firm all day, I had decided that the revolutionary inside of me needed a run of an hour or more. Walking outside, I could feel my head throb, the throat go dry, and the blood in my ears pulsate. I then hid into my vehicle, changed, and believed Saint Peter would be reluctant to approve.

I returned to my vehicle after a little less than 10 miles later, utterly incapable of thought, and emotion. For my respiratory rate seemingly had not changed. Six hours later, and 120 ounces of Gatorade, I remain in a state of dehydration. Sometimes people frown or condemn or even vocally disapprove of such an endeavor. But they do not know of the long and painful process that I endure to maintain my own equilibrium. For it is unbeknownst to those outside my skin.

Minute after minute upon this run, I constantly pondered “Why?” Why run on such a day, when nothing works, the wheels have already fallen off, and my every fiber within me is screaming at me to walk home.

The answer is youth. Not a time of life, but a state of mind. A predominance of courage over timidity. It is a tenacity that relies on ambition, not ceasation.

The clearest answer to my ambition is not unequivocal, but paradoxical. It was true over four decades ago, and it rings true today.
In a speech to the young people of South Africa, on their day of Affirmation in 1966, Senator Robert Kennedy (D-NY) reclaimed.

“Some men look at the way things are and say ‘Why?’
I dream things that never were and say ‘Why Not?’”