I’m a woman who runs on rural roads. The fear is always there.

Sometimes, when I come back from a run, my 7-year-old daughter is on the porch, wearing her “fast shoes.” “Race me,” she says, and we do, all the way down to the barn. My daughter loves to run. Like me, she was born with strong, short legs. Occasionally I find her outside, hollering “Ready, set, go!” to herself and sprinting off, focused and joyful.