My running shoes were like giant erasers. Each foot strike rubbed away some earlier failure. I'd made a thousand promises to myself over my lifetime. I promised myself I'd quit smoking or drinking or overeating. I failed. I promised myself I'd get in shape; lose some weight; take better care of myself; be a better husband, father, son, person. I failed. But with running, I could succeed. The success was small in the beginning, sometimes as small as a single step. But after a lifetime of failures, it was all the success I needed. [John "The Penguin" Bingham]