I grew up distance running. One of my older brothers did track and cross country; I started too in eighth grade and ran through college. Because of this, I know a lot of distance runners and I know a lot of people who have run marathons. At one point, I was talking to my partner about a marathon I’d run and treating it as casually as I’d treat going to the grocery store. He asked if I knew how rare running a marathon was… if I knew how many people had run one.
Probably a lot, I said offhand, thinking of how my social media feed is very full of friends sharing race results.
According to this Livestrong article, in the U.S., it’s actually less than 1%. (According to another site, worldwide it’s about .01%.) But I know so many people who have run marathons! I protest. That can’t possibly be right.
More recently, I was talking to some friends about an open writing event I was attending and invited them to join. Oh, what would I write? I don’t do that.
They don’t write? I was incredulous. Well, everybody writes. Truly everyone I know writes… right?
It is perhaps because running and writing have been the two biggest parts of my life since childhood that most of my circle falls into one of those two categories. It is because it is so present in my life that I assume it must be so present in everyones. It would seem that is not the case.
Just as someone who grew up surfing or snowboarding might be shocked to hear I’ve tried neither, I feel that way when learning someone doesn’t always carry a notebook and pen with them.
It is a good reminder, then, to step out of our circle sometimes. I love my running and writing friends. But how fun it can be to catch up with someone who views marathons as the wonderful, beautiful, rare accomplishment they are. What varied perspective.
How much we can learn from people who are different from us.
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