Earlier this week, I talked about the wonder of people who can write and play music. In particular, I remembered the birthday of the classical composer Johannes Sebastain Bach and the passing of Chuck Berry, one of the earliest stars of rock 'n' roll. 
     Today, I share the wonder of another type of human achievement, one in the sphere of physical prowess.  Unless you are a runner or follow such things, you may not be aware of Ed Whitlock.  Ed Whitlock, who passed on last week, was a runner extraordinaire. Possessed with remarkable physical gifts, he continued to run, hard, into his eighties. Indeed, about a year before he died, he finished a marathon in under four hours.  Given that for most of us this is an accomplishment, to see a person in his eighties do such a thing causes us to marvel even more at the profound capacities of the human body.  In addition, when he was seventy-three, Whitlock ran a marathon in less than three hours. This means that, at this age, he averaged a sub-seven mile pace which, as any runner knows, is amazing.  Although champion marathoners today regularly run 4:30 and 4:35 minute miles in their bid to be the first to cross the finish line, most of us do well to crack eight minute miles.  Yet even in his seventies, Whitlock managed to go well beyond this.
     Why did Whitlock run?  Mostly, he said, for the attention and accolades.  He didn't employ a special trainer, did not pursue a special diet, did not engage in any particular type of training.  He just ran.  And he ran fast.
     What astonishing creations we are!  Equal parts intellect and physicality, emotion and imagination, visioning and purpose, we ought to often step back and wonder:  why?  Why are we the way we are?  Are we really, as one researcher put it, "plops" in a senseless universe?
     Unless there is something more than we, we are.