Running makes your heart big (I'll probably write more about that later), but it also gives you more guts.
At my first track meet ever in the spring of 2000, there were not enough JV hurdlers to sweep up points in the 100m hurdles. I had trained with the sprinters for about 3-4 months, and although I was already signed up for other sprint events, my team duty was salient. I had exposure to SOME hurdling, about 50m worth during a "hexathlon" that took place to find our strengths, and no, hurdling was not one of my strengths found that day.
I rememeber kneeling in the blocks, wondering how this would go. Gun. Boy, those hurdles are a lot taller in the 100m than the 300m, I thought. I probably cleared the first five hurdles and then started faltering. Anyone who hurdles knows that once you lose your rhythm, it's VERY difficult to settle back into it. So I was intimate with the ground and slowly finished the race, even though everyone else had long finished. My finish would still be worth 1 point, and as it goes, you should always (if it's within your ability) finish what you start. My teammates helped me clean up some minor scrapes with water bottles.
A bit of perspective here. The only other time I've met ground while running was at a 400m race. I was neck-in-neck with the girl behind me, and in order to cross the finish line first, I dove. The damage was a bit more mild that time.
But the story below is an extreme case of courage, tolerance, and strength. I am not endorsing this level of extremity, but it is certaintly admirable. Now it's time to run and be thankful for my good health and healed foot.