I am sitting at my desk writing to you today, and I think I may be dying. You see, I just ran 3.5 miles around our neighborhood park. Historically, this is not a sentence I would utter. I am not a runner. Colorado, however, has something of a legacy of running. It is a runner’s paradise, full of possibility and fun, and steeped in tradition. Or so I have always been told. As I said, I am not a runner. I have never really understood the appeal of punishing your legs, mind, and dare I say soul, by hitting the pavement for mile after mile after mile. Dredging every last…