I am Forrest Gump, running through the wind, gazing at the passing landscape. I started running. For no particular reason, I ran. Much time had passed since the last time I had done this exercise/recreation/sport, but I just decided to pick up my legs, make them move fast, and allow them to take me wherever they wanted. A stoplight prevented my desired turn, so I kept going straight and would see where the never-ending road would take me. Street signs indicated a path toward downtown. Out of curiosity, could I make it all the way downtown? I finally saw main street... I did it! Since I had gone that far, I figured I might as well run through the other end of downtown. After I completed another checkpoint, I just kept running. Followers ensued. Soon, I was on the cover of Time magazine. Flocks of supporters wanted to join the man who had the unexplainable desire to persevere through the fatigue and numbness of infinite running. I wiped my muddy face on a T-shirt, influencing a business man to sell this image and make millions. One man used my quotes in bumper stickers. Finally, after months, I paused in the middle of the road, wiped the sweat from my scraggly beard onto my tattered sweatshirt, and decided I was satisfied with my run. Time had come to go home.

I am Forrest Gump. Well, I qualify until the point of crossing downtown.