I understand the speed limit signs in Canada.
The doctor fell asleep during my stress test.
I know every PR for every possible distance down to the hundredth of a second, every race I’ve ever run, the finish times….but I have hard time remembering my home phone number and family birthdays.
I can say “fartlek” with a straight face.
Ibuprofen is my recreational drug of choice.
speaking of drugs, I can get high without taking a single pill or smoke.
I spend more money on running clothes than all other clothes combined.
My shoe collection would make Imelda Marcos jealous.
Close proximity to places to run was a major factor in which house to buy.
Vacations are planned based on how high I can get up those mountains and race registrations up those mountains.
I think fuel belts and camelbaks are sexy.
So, a few years ago, I went for an early morning run to try to wear my body down enough so I could sleep peacefully. I never thought I would go back the next day. And the next. And now I’m into my 6th year as a runner. Some years, I’m faster, some I’m slower. Some months, I’m barely able to make it 4 miles on a long run. One year, I was in therapy for 9 months and didn’t run more than 2 miles at a time. Now I rearrange my life so I can prevent that from ever happening again. Running and training is never far from my mind. I eat for running. I sleep (when I can) so I can run better. I don’t feel I’m a girl who runs. I’m a runner. It’s who I am, not just what I do. I may never win any races. I will never qualify for Boston, but I bet I qualify for Pike’s Peak one day. I may never get faster than what I was 2 years ago. But I bet I go farther one day. I may never look like a stick figure with running shoes, but I bet my body can do so much more than I ever thought. And I’m okay with that.