CHANGE THE WORLD BACK (January 9, 2002)

We're told the world changed on September 11, and I believe it. But I also believe it's time to change it back. And I believe we've got a sport that can do exactly that--change the world.

We runners are often accused of drifting into hyperbole when we describe what running can do. The health and fitness benefits--weight control, cardiovascular improvement, reduced susceptibility to certain cancers, increased life span, and so on--aren't in great dispute these days, but non-runners often scoff when we tout running as a panacea for substance abuse, depression and other intractable problems.

Fine, then, scoff away. Meanwhile, I'm going to extend my touting by boasting running's ability to generate civic pride, increase cultural understanding, elevate the human spirit, and change the world for the better.

When Fred Lebow orchestrated the New York City Marathon as a citywide event in 1976, he did something more than create an enormous stage for our sport. He also proved that city streets could accommodate pedestrians, that neighborhoods could welcome outsiders, and that hard-boiled urbanites could appreciate and applaud the struggle of strangers, even skinny ones in shorts. As runners streamed into Central Park for daily training, the heart of the city tilted toward hospitable again. Running changed the city forever.

If that's an exaggeration, it's not much of one. Nor is it hyperbole to point out that New York's example was eventually embraced by almost every major city in the world. New York wasn't the first city to hold a marathon in its streets, but it was certainly the most complicated. If it could be done there, it could be done anywhere. In time, that example changed the world, making cities everywhere more livable.

It may seem ironic, then, that our impulses to cower, to cocoon, and to watch our backsides were heightened by the September 11 terror in New York. The city that taught us how to humanize became victim to inhumanity, and city dwellers around the world have been on edge ever since. So let me offer 2002 as the year to reverse the process, and to use running's immense power to transform cities again.

Of course that's already begun. New York led the way last November, as 25,000 runners, along with 2-1/2 million spectators, set a powerful example. A marathon that might have been cancelled because of security concerns took place as scheduled. Strangers came to town, New Yorkers cheered them on, and people who normally have nothing in common shared a profound experience, a triumph of freedom over fear.

Washington, DC, did the same. So did Chicago. So have dozens of other communities since September 11. And in each case, the combination of runners sweating and spectators cheering worked its magic. Streets and sidewalks filled with people. Cities sparked and sparkled.

Here at the beginning of the 21st century, almost every city in the country--in the world--enjoys a major running event. So when the big one rolls around this year in a city or town near you, give it your full support.

Cities will never be 100 percent safe--from troublemakers, traffic or terrorism. But running is an act of faith, and 2002 is the year to show what you believe in. We have faith that we are welcome where we run, and that trotting defenseless down the middle of the street can be a reasonable thing to do now and then. We have faith--in spite of all the reasons not to--in our fellow human beings.

If we lost that when the world changed on September 11, now's the time to get it back. And we have exactly the right sport to make it happen.

-Don