I had to run across the parking lot last week in my suit. Literally, I had to sprint to the car and get something.

The soles of my dress shoes made those soft scraping sounds with each step onto the asphalt. The tiniest pieces of gravel seem to crackle under a dress shoe. The sound of dress shoes in a parking lot is one of the most reassuring sounds from the catalog of business noises.

People aren’t supposed to run in suits. The dress suit is a symbol of order and civilization. Running in one connotes chaos. They aren’t designed for athletics. You never run at full steam in a suit. You don’t want to sweat in it and the fear of damaging the garment always surrounds the suit-wearer.

My dash in the suit felt odd to me — but beyond the natural awkwardness of running in a suit. I thought, “Why does this feel so wrong?”

Then, it hit me: Running in a suit reminds me of 9/11.

I thought of suit-wearing people running for their lives in Manhattan. I thought of the people who made that last desperate decision to jump out of the World Trade Center.

The awkward feeling sunk into a gut sickness as I walked back to the building. It’s the same upset tinge I feel whenever I think about 9/11 or see something about it. One part shock, one part sad, one part anger and one part fear — all still so vivid, seven years later. That sick feeling is a primal reminder: They actually did it.

People aren’t supposed to run in suits.