I have a dear friend who is a professional runner.

Yes, I said that right, professional runner.

As in, he literally runs, not because he enjoys listening to podcasts so much and has nothing else to do while listening to them,

but he runs because it's his actual passion, and he even runs competitively.

Be in Boston, Chicago, New York, Jupiter. If there's a marathon somewhere, he's on the list.

And rightly so, he's amazing, and he has really great hair as well.

Miles, I do hope that you're listening.

I enjoy running, and it's something that I do three or four times a week,

but it's less competitive and more creative for me personally.

Running is where I get a lot of ideas from. And it's also just a

place where I can kind of brainwash the day. All to say, Miles and I are two very different

runners, obviously. I've never even run a 5K. And full disclosure, I have no plans of doing so anytime soon,

or even later for that matter. No offense. But I can imagine if I were to go visit Miles,

who lives on the West Coast. And let's say he picks me up at the airport. As soon as I get in

the car, he goes, hey, I signed us up for a 5K.

I thought it would be fun.

Uh, what?

Yeah, come on, you'll be fine, you'll be fine.

And instead of heading to the Sheraton, we head to the starting line.

As night falls and I finally cross this finish line alone, dotting traffic, as the street opened hours ago after all of the runners had finished,

well, except one, Miles finally finds me. Granted, he would never leave me like this alone,

but again, this is just a fictional story, so just go along with me. Granted, he would never leave me like this alone, but again, this is just a fictional

...