Why do you run?

I've lost count of the number of articles I've read where lyrics are waxed about why the writer runs.
So I thought I'd best give it a go.

When people ask me the eternal question "Why do you run?" I can go off in a variety of directions and I am sure none of them are anything you've not heard before. I could probably write out a list of around 10 reasons people run and 99% of runners would fit in to one or several of them.
Here's my quick list that applies to me, in no particular order:

1) The challenge
2) Fitness and health
3) It's fun
4) To keep the weight off from the beer and pizzas I consume
5) For the feeling of breaking my PB
6) It's fun
7) To see new places and experience new things
8) It's fun

Of course, none of these reasons are very romantic, apart from maybe number 7, but as with most things, there's more to it than that.
When the "Why do you run?" question is asked, more often than not there is the unspoken "because you seem like a nutter for doing it" thought behind it. Or if you have my type of friends, it isn't unspoken, it's in your face.
To begin to answer this, here's a great thought from Ann Trason, a legendary ultrarunner, as described in every runner's bible "Born to Run" by Christopher McDougal.
"Of course her friends didn't get it because they'd never broken through. For them, running was a miserable two miles motivated solely by size 6 jeans: get on the scale, get depressed, get your head phones on, and get it over with."

And this is where most of these discussions begin, with someone telling me that they're just not a runner, that they've tried, but it's just too horrible. They get too tired, too sore, they feel silly, they get such a short distance before needing to stop it's demotivating, everyone else is better than them, etc, etc ad infinitum.
I always start by telling them, that they have to push through that and get to the point where that all stops, and other motivations take over. They are the pinnacle of millions of years of evolution, what do you mean you can't run? You can, you've just forgotten how.

When I started running seriously again nearly 3 years ago, it took 4 months before I ran comfortably. Of course I started from a much different position from a lot of people who have barely moved from the sofa since school, I have a residual level of fitness from years of swimming, cycling, hiking, rugby, football and all the rest. However, I have the added psychological disadvantage of seeing myself as athletic. That means I am not really very happy to bimble around 5k with my feet not lifting from the ground; if I'm not running, running, I'm not happy. So for 4 months, I went eye-balls out each time I ran. Trying to shave seconds off my record each time.
And then one day, I didn't have a race coming up in a week or two to train for, and I just went out for a nice easy run. And what a revelation.
I eased lungfuls of fresh air in to my body instead of hungrily gasping it down. I looked around, instead of seeing through a waterfall of sweat, heard the sounds around me instead of rushing blood in my ears.

I enjoyed it.

Much has been said of how it is a return to childhood joy when running sinks in to you. I recently found the muddiest bit of one of the local country parks, a 100m quagmire under the trees. Sprinting through it I laughed and giggled like a child, my feet sinking deep in to the mud and water. The adult in me didn't remind me what I was doing to a £100 pair of trainers, or that my feet were getting soaking or that I could twist an ankle here. The adult was quiet. I like to think he looked on like a parent enjoying their child playing in the box of the expensive toy they've just been given instead of the toy. Just smiling at the sheer joy it was producing.
I can't remember the last time I had that much fun. (Well, whilst wearing shoes, anyway)

As for the rest of the reasons in my list. Health and fitness, keeping the weight off and being able to pretty much eat and drink what I like, are happy consequences, but they're not the motivation.
Running has sunken deep in to me now. Call it primeval instinct maybe. That said, on a day-by-day basis, I use the pursuit of my PB as motivation in the main. Last year was spent trying to regain my fitness after injury,  for an assault at my 10k PB. I finally achieved it at the Abbey Dash in Leeds, punching the air (I am sure to the amusement of the spectators) in a flood of relief, happiness, joy and a wonderful sense of achievement.
After a season of near misses, never-closes, horrible disasters and blood, tears, toil and sweat I took a shaky, blurry shot of my GPS watch with my time, posted it to Facebook and went for a coffee.

Target achieved.