One of the prisoners was barefoot and running on the track. The look on his face as we passed was priceless. I did not see a caged bird. Instead, I saw a runner. With each fellow prisoner he passed, I saw the joy and the pure love of running on his face. For those precious few minutes in the recreation yard each day, he is no longer a prisoner of his own bad choices. He is free, no walls can hold him.
That, my friends, is why I run. No one can ever take the freedom of running from you. It is a secret and joyful society that only a fellow runner can recognize. I know why the caged (jail)bird runs . . .
