Once there was a runner who stepped up to the starting line. He was unlike the other runners, for no one knew him. He had no Strava, no Instagram account, no YouTube channel. Yet he was noticed, for though there was nothing particularly remarkable about his appearance, those with the gift of sight perceived something extraordinary in him.
“I am but a wanderer on the byways of life,” he murmured, and by that name he came to be known.
The Wanderer’s gear was unremarkably gray, and amid the colorful crowd, he stood apart. Once, another runner asked him why he ran in rags—did he not enjoy brightening his spirits with stylish sportswear, or desire the latest running shoes, which could even boost his speed?
“The clothes I wear mold themselves more to my form each day,” he replied, “until to part with them would be to part with a piece of myself. Brightening the spirit is a pleasant feeling, but should I let my mind sway with every change of garment?
Nothing truly important can be bought. The economy of running is an exchange of sweat, breath, time, and steps. What value is there for me in trading the only true currency of my life’s hourglass for shoes or finery I do not truly need?
Speed is a worthy pursuit. But can you truly take pride in what is not your own? If a horse were to boast, ‘I am noble,’ it would be tolerable. But if you boast of your noble horse, or of the speed your shoes provide, what is noble in that? For you take pride in qualities that belong to the horse or the shoes, not to you.
I run slower when it is scorching hot or bitterly cold, when the terrain is rough, or the ground slippery. Likewise, I run at different speeds in different shoes. Should I believe my worth depends on a speed determined by my shoes, the heat, the cold, or the ground? No! What is real is my running; everything else is superficial.
Of course, the joy an object brings is real, but of all that gladdens the mind, remember to discern its true nature. I may delight in this object, but if it breaks, my mind remains unshaken. So buy good shoes, and then run in them.”
With these words, the Runner fell silent.
The questioner said nothing more but walked away quietly, yet the Runner’s words lingered in his mind.
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