My Running Journey Began on September 1st, 1966
My running journey started at the Raritan Valley Country Club on September 1st, 1966. That was my first cross country practice for Somerville High School in Somerville, NJ. That day marked the beginning of a journey that would shape not just my fitness, but my perspective on life. It was a simple decision, yet it held the promise of so much more. Looking back, it’s hard to grasp how that one step changed the way I saw the world, but here I am, decades later, reflecting on the early days of running when it wasn’t the global phenomenon it is today.
In the mid-1960s, running wasn’t the widespread health trend it is now. The idea of running as an activity wasn’t on the radar of most people, especially those of us living outside of major cities. Fitness wasn’t as ubiquitous as it is today, and the popular mindset leaned more toward traditional forms of exercise: tennis, swimming, or team sports. Running, to many, was something reserved for athletes or those training for marathons, an activity that was still growing in popularity.
But something changed in the summer of 1966. Perhaps it was the influence of rising athletic icons or the increasing awareness about fitness in the media, but more and more people started to question what they could do to improve their own health. I was one of them.
When I started running, it wasn’t about competition or beating a personal record. It was about feeling the rhythm of my own body and finding a sense of freedom in movement. The streets of my neighborhood were my track, the trees and sidewalks my spectators. There was a certain joy in feeling the pavement beneath my feet, the air rushing past me, and the simple thrill of accomplishing something I hadn’t thought possible before.
In those early days, the resources available for runners were limited. There was no internet with endless tutorials or running apps to track your pace. We had magazines, word of mouth, and a few pioneering books that laid out the basics of running. I remember picking up “Jogging” by Dr. Bill Bowerman (who would later co-found Nike) and realizing how accessible running could be. It wasn’t just about speed or competition—it was about doing something that was good for your mind, body, and soul.
Of course, it wasn’t always easy. My body was sore at times, and there were days when I felt like giving up. But there was a resilience in the process. Each day I ran, I felt stronger, and each mile brought with it a new sense of accomplishment. The experience was as much about the mental discipline as it was about the physical.
Running on September 1st, 1966, was a start—an initiation into a practice that would later explode into a global fitness movement. But at that moment, it was just me and the open road, seeking something deeper than fitness. It was about personal growth, discovery, and a connection to the world around me. I didn’t know it then, but this humble act would transform into something far greater.
As I look back, I realize that starting to run on that specific day wasn’t just a moment in time. It was part of a larger cultural shift—a shift towards more individual forms of fitness, mental clarity, and a lifestyle of longevity. It also laid the groundwork for the massive running culture that would blossom in the following decades.
Now, running is so much more than it was in 1966. It’s a global phenomenon with marathons, ultra-marathons, and fun runs taking place all over the world. There are running clubs, high-tech gear, professional runners, and digital platforms for every runner to track their progress. But at its core, running is still the same: an accessible, freeing, and powerful way to connect with yourself and the world around you.
For me, the act of running began on that day, but the lessons it’s taught me continue to unfold. On September 1st, 1966, I wasn’t just starting a fitness routine. I was starting a lifelong journey of self-discovery, perseverance, and joy. And in many ways, that simple step has kept me moving forward ever since.
If you’re considering starting to run or are already on your running journey, I encourage you to lace up your shoes and take that first step. It might not feel monumental at first, but in the grand scheme of things, it’s the start of something that will stay with you for life. You never know how one decision might shape your future.
So, here’s to that first run, to the countless miles that followed, and to the power of taking the first step—no matter when it happens.