© InternetNear my home is a small pond with a path around it measuring exactly five hundred metres, which makes it easy to calculate how far I have run. So this is where I chose to go running.
But first, a slight digression. Toward the end of the last century, I attended a training programme that was all the rage at the time. The internet was not yet widespread, so everything took place in person. Several hundred people attended each session, held either in a stadium or in a cluster of packed classrooms. The instructor spoke in the first classroom while everyone in the others watched on live television. He spent half his time teaching and the other half delivering motivational sermons—less chicken soup for the soul than a shot of adrenaline.
One such adrenaline shot went like this: every morning on the vast plains of Africa, a gazelle wakes knowing it must run faster than the cheetah or be eaten. The cheetah also wakes knowing it must run down the gazelle or go hungry. Strong or weak, every creature must run for its life each day…
© InternetWhen the programme ended, the instructor gave each of us a notebook as a keepsake. On the title page, he had written by hand: “Habit is a form of excellence.” I was still young and did not understand what he meant. “What on earth is that supposed to mean?” I muttered to myself, and tossed the notebook aside.
© InternetAlso toward the end of the last century, when my career had reached an impasse, a classmate in the United States suggested that I watch Forrest Gump. The image of Forrest simply running straight ahead has stayed with me ever since.
© Richard HuangThese experiences left me with the conviction that life is about running…
© Richard HuangAnd yet I have never particularly enjoyed running. I find the monotony and solitude of long distances hard to bear. Fortunately, I love photography. Each time I went for a run, I would take a photograph and post it on WeChat Moments as my daily check-in. That was just enough motivation to keep me going.
© Google MapBut this created another problem. The pond’s circuit was only five hundred metres, and I could see from one end to the other at a glance. The vegetation might be abundant, but everywhere I looked there were trees, and yet more trees. How long could I possibly keep photographing it?
© Richard HuangOnce I finally managed to keep at it, I discovered endless possibilities…
© Richard HuangThe trees alone seemed to come in countless varieties.
© Richard HuangUnder different light, the trees took on entirely different moods—fresh and delicate in the morning, soft and romantic in the afterglow of sunset.
© Richard HuangThe wind, meanwhile, was nature’s painter, using branches and leaves as brushes to draw upon the air.
© Richard Huang
© Richard Huang
© Richard HuangAnd let us not forget the pond itself. Water, stones, and reflections formed an endless array of combinations. As these elements played off one another, they created one beautiful tableau after another.
© Richard Huang
© Richard Huang
© Richard Huang
© Richard HuangAnd so, day after day, I watched daylight give way to night and night to day.
© Richard HuangSunrise and sunset revealed nature at once majestic and tender.
© Richard HuangThe rising and setting of the moon brought tranquillity and quiet ease.
© Richard HuangThese scenes changed with every passing moment; only photography could hold on to their singular beauty.
© Richard HuangPhotographing the pond over time also recorded the changing seasons and the passing years: spring, when wildflowers burst into bloom;
© Richard Huangsummer, when dense green foliage blocked out the sun;
© Richard Huangautumn, when red leaves covered the ground;
© Richard Huangand winter, when everything was clothed in white.
© Richard HuangSuch is the rhythm of nature: the cycle repeats, all things return, and cause and effect come full circle…
© Richard HuangEvery flower has its season to bloom and fall.
© Richard HuangHaving explored the part played by time, we might now consider the relationships within space. Look up, and the sky holds clouds of every shape, with birds darting between them and, now and then, an aeroplane tracing a path high overhead. Don’t these two intersecting banks of cloud resemble a cross suspended in mid-air?
© Richard HuangLook down, and there are puddles, fallen leaves, the shadows of trees, and small animals scurrying past. Together they form patterns that stir the imagination. Doesn’t this one resemble a towering mountain peak?
© Richard HuangAnd when it came to animals, there was no shortage of vivid little scenes.
© Richard HuangA grey crane dozed in the sunshine.
© Richard HuangWhen hunger struck, it would conceal itself in the grass and wait for prey to appear.
© Richard HuangA little fox, oblivious to onlookers, would foxtrot down the path as if it owned the place.
© Richard HuangMore than anything else, though, it was human activity that brought the little pond to life. This was a place where people came to unwind, exercise, and enjoy themselves.
© Richard HuangAnd so photography kept me running, while running gave me nearly a hundred check-in photographs of the pond. For reasons of space, I have collected the remaining images in a separate Photo Galleryarticle.
© Richard HuangLooking back through these hundred photographs is unexpectedly moving. I was able to make so many images within this tiny five-hundred-metre circuit not because it offered an abundance of interesting sights, but because accumulated time and unfailing persistence gave the collection its richness.
© Richard HuangAs I grow older, I think I am beginning to understand the instructor’s parting words: “Habit is a form of excellence.” The idea is said to originate in the ethics of the Greek philosopher Aristotle. Excellence of character and outstanding achievement are built upon good habits, and good habits can be formed only through continued effort and perseverance.
© Richard HuangIn Forrest Gump, Forrest’s persistence brings him love and success. I, in turn, became one of his most devoted fans. After completing a long-distance running event in Toronto in 2022, I posted a series of photographs on WeChat Moments. The first and last bore the words “Run, Forrest, Run,” while the four in between documented more than a decade of unwavering commitment to running—from Beijing in 2008, to Pyongyangin 2019, and Toronto in 2022.
This short essay may appear to be about photography, but it is really about running. And while it may appear to be about running, it is really about the spirit of perseverance… Only by keeping at it can we reach that far-off place of our dreams.
(This video was filmed during one of my runs in 2022. Its soundtrack is “Go Your Own Way,” the same song heard in Forrest Gump when people follow Forrest as he runs through the desert.)
