Why are you running?

This weekend I'm off to run the Pacasmayo half-marathon down on the coast - 12 weeks of training is (hopefully) about to pay off. My morning runs through town and the surrounding campo are something the Cajabambans have yet to get used to; even a year later, me jogging by still inspires the same amount of stares, whistles, shouts, and whispered comments as it did on day one. I know that the cajabambinos occasionally run - there are road races during town fiestas - but I think the difference is they don't consistently train or run for exercise, so my habits remain a mystery to them.

Yesterday I was out for a quick three-miler before Sunday's race when I ran by a group of elementary schoolers heading to a nearby soccer field. About five of them, full of the energy that characterizes small boys, started to run alongside me while peppering me with questions: Where are you from? Why are you running? How far are you going? Why are you running so far? Laughing, I explained to them that I was training for a marathon so I had to try and run long distances. One boy considered my proposed route, then told me he'd much rather go via bicycle, since that would be much faster and not hurt his feet so much.

While chuckling about my new friend's wisdom on the advantages of biking, I realized that his group's comments and questions probably mirrored what the rest of the townspeople are thinking when they see me run by. If the rest of the cajabambinos had as few inhibitions and as much energy as those eight year-olds, maybe I'd get more questions and less stares.