I Run, Therefore I Am...a Runner!

     The question that makes me want to stamp my feet and scream the most is, “Oh, how many marathons have you run?”  This is that inquiry that inevitably comes from the mouth of the new acquaintance who just found out that I like to run.  It doesn’t matter if this person runs themselves, has another sport that occupies their time, or even if they’re the good ol’ couch potato type that prefers knitting to sweating.  I cannot count how many times I’ve had this conversation.

      When I politely answer, “None,” the next question is stated in future tense, “Do you plan to run a marathon?”  I say, “No.”  At that point there is usually the awkward pause that I feel the need to fill with an explanation.  There are several rationales that I can share, but my pride usually wins and I feel the need to say that “Yes, I have run over 26 miles on the trails during a training run.  But No, I have not run a marathon “race” in which I received a number, finisher’s medal and official time.”  If that isn’t enough I sometimes mention that pounding every step of 26.2 miles on pavement while navigating through hundreds of bodies is not my idea of an enjoyable outing.

     The person may respond with, “Don’t you want to do one just so you can say you did?”  Sometimes I get defensive or cranky and feel like saying, “Of course I could but I don’t want to!”  or “Hey honey, let’s take this outside!   Lace up your shoes and I’ll kick your b*** in a 5k right now!”

      When it comes down to it, anything I say sounds like an excuse and I leave the conversation feeling like a loser, my new acquaintance convinced that I must be a jogger or a poser without the 26.2 credential.  The fact is I don’t need a race number and a PR to quote to make me proud of my sport.  I resent anyone who implies that I can’t be a real runner without the so-called pinnacle race, The Marathon, on my resume.   Of course it could be that I am overly-sensitive.   These people are most likely making polite conversation and not passing judgment about my athletic ability. 

      The simple truth is that I love to run.  I love the physical challenge of climbing a hill with nothing but my legs and lungs to carry me.  I love getting out in nature during a rain storm and feeling the rain drip down my face.  I love having been on the mountain for two hours before most people have read their Sunday paper.  I love the long and meandering conversations with my buddies while we weave through the woods.  I love that chill that comes on after I’ve finished a hard run and the sweat cools on my back. 

      Although running does not require racing, occasionally I will sign up for a trail race or shorter road race to test my mettle.  Afterward I’m always glad I did.  But all I really need for a purely joyful experience is a pair of good shoes, my dog (human company not required, but always enjoyed) and a lovely trail.

      I run, therefore I am…a Runner.  I don’t need to prove that to anyone!  And don’t ask me about my marathon PR, thank you!

(This essay originally appeared in the December issue of Northwest Runner)