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I remember being drafted into running a few races on my last school sports day, funny at the time, because no-one else wanted to and I was the second worst runner in the year. During my last race of the day I was running in second last place thinking, “wow. Once I finish this race, I’ll never have to run ever again.”

Turns out I was a tad over optimistic about that one. Since that race I’ve had to run to catch trains, run to get to class in the rain, run after a four year old who though he was faster than me. And now I’m running for fun. Seriously.

If this post travels back in time, I’m not going to believe I wrote it. I hate running. I hate walking fast. But the last few days my housemate and I have been power walking and running in the afternoons, and it feels really good.

Our circuit varies, but we always end up passing the park that’s just around the corner and it reminds me of when I was a kid and my dad would take my sisters and I to parks. We’d climb trees and run barefoot and make-believe we ruled the world. I wasn’t afraid of running then.

And so, I’m glad that my kid brother likes to run. And I’m glad he gets to play in his school playground and climb and make-believe. And most of all, I’m glad that he wants to run to help other kids in his community have the same playground opportunities that he has.

Will you help him and his class mates raise enough money to build a community playground in Hoi An? So that these kids can enjoy running before they get old and bitter like me and hate it? So that if they do, they’ll at least always have the memory of playing with friends when the world was wide and exercise didn’t exist, it was just play?

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