I had the greatest day today.
I have a hard time calling myself a runner, mostly because…and I’m ashamed to say it…I’m slow. Not ridiculously slow. But slower than I used to be.
Long gone are the days of 7-8 minute miles. Long gone are the days of sub 30:00 5k’s. But still, I find myself, especially on days like today, loving being a runner.
Why?
Go out, strap on your sneakers and just start running. Jogging, running, I consider them one in the same, because ultimately, you’re faster than a walker. You move swiftly over the sidewalk, whether it’s to music or just the sound of your own breathing and the cars passing by. You run to the outskirts of town, up and down hills you weren’t expecting but find yourself being excited and proud when you conquer one hill after the other. You feel your legs tighten up, crying out over the exercise but not because they’re upset, they’re tired. You turn around and head home, bummed yet happy that the run is over. The run is almost over? Two miles left, twentyish minutes or so. Down some hills, up some more hills.
You pass a couple older runners, nodding politely, then one man, with wrap around running sunglasses, and winter gloves gives you a thumbs up. It revamps your energy and you feel an extra kick in your step. You wonder how fast you’re really going, how long til you’ll be done and able to say you conquered another 8 miles. Eight miles on your sneakers. Adding up the miles in your head you wonder how long till you should reward your hobby with a new pair.
Finally you pass the last major landmark, about a half mile from home. Knowing you’re almost there, you add more spring to your step, trying to keep up with a runner a few steps in front of you. He suspects what you’re doing, and speeds up. Or you slow down, tired, cramping and aching. You cross your last street and turn up your driveway. Sprinting the last quarter mile or so, almost there. You can feel the sweat on your forehead – the first spring day, the first great day for a long run. Your legs are tight, screaming in pain, but you feel, albeit sore and tired, accomplished and exuberant about running and accomplished.
You are, regardless of your speed, a runner.
