I find it all too easy to forget my corporeality, to forget that my life is contingent upon the health of my body. My body is millions of years older than I am; it is skilled and experienced in ways beyond mine or anyone’s comprehension, yet day after day I use it to sit in front of a computer. I look at a screen; I punch keys. I sit down to read; I hold a book. This isn’t using my body - I’m just a mind. As Marwood says in Bruce Robinson’s Withnail & I, ‘We are indeed drifting into the arena of the unwell, making an enemy of our own future. What we need is harmony, fresh air, stuff like that.’ For me, that is the pull of running.