Running is no longer a simple necessity. It adds structure and purpose to otherwise petty, colorless circumstances and hones mental fortitude, securing otherwise fragile psyches. A run with the cross-country team, whether on verdant summer days or in the middle of a frigid winter, is like a shining star during a night of discontent. Running makes me appreciate my capacity to understand unexplored ­sectors of intellect; losing myself on a run is like a window into the stellar nursery of ideas hidden ­behind the atmosphere of societal boredom.

The camaraderie between cross-country runners gives my runs purpose. In enduring so many miles with those I love and respect, I have come to understand the catalysts that inspire my dedication. It has become much more than a way to be active and healthy. The cross-country team and running are imperative to my spiritual well-being; they expel my violent specters or haunting memories into the deepest reaches of space. My teammates and this simple motion are, unarguably, the most important things in the world to me. Put the two together, and stars explode.