Back in April, my two younger girls (along with 70+ of their grammar school classmates from Veritas) participated in the Oklahoma City Marathon, running the 1.2-mile Kids Marathon and generally having a good time. I kick myself for not having signed up to run with them (safety was not an issue – it was a regular fence-lined cattle chute through downtown), but the idea of doing so just never crossed my mind, so I didn't.
I wouldn't say I'm activity-averse, but I do have an overly-active homebody gene that often reacts negatively to situations involving crowds (i.e. thousands of people running all over downtown Oklahoma City). My aversion is not a phobia (rarely do I make decisions out of fear), nor is it born out of a superiority complex or condescension toward others (seeing myself in spandex shorts has helped me with that). But it is a preference – one that probably works against the idea of me ever running a marathon.
Simply put, I might be interested in training for and running 26.2 miles if I didn't have to do it with and when anyone else did.
About the same time last month, I came across the following quote from author/pastor Tim Keller: "The more independent you are, the less intimate your relationships." I didn't want to retweet it, but I did. To paraphrase Bono: "You preach (tweet) what you need to hear."
While I've always gotten along with people, I've usually (strangely) also found myself maintaining an independence from them. Megan says I'm my own best friend, and while I think that's true, it doesn't strike me as bad. I'm a pretty good friend (so what if it happens to be to me in addition to others).
In my mind, the danger of independence manifests itself more in narcissism (this post, for example) than doing something stupid. While I'm certainly capable of the latter, my logic filter is more developed than my desire to think about something other than myself. Thinking about oneself is not always evil, but only thinking about oneself usually is.