When I first returned to running as an adult I went through a period of time when I didn’t think of myself as a “Runner.” I mean, real runners do stuff like races, right? Then I did some races and thought, “Well, I’m not really a runner, real runners do stuff like marathons.” Then I ran a marathon. “Well, that’s the last one, so I’m glad it was good. Guess I’ll go back to not being a runner.” Then I built a running website for my sister, a real runner. “But I’m not a serious runner like her. I’ve only done one marathon.” Then I ran another marathon. “Well, I’ve never won anything.” Then I won my age group in a 10k. You get the idea.
One day somewhere in there it became undeniable. I am a runner. A real runner. A serious runner. I’ve never won a race, I’m not elite, I’m not chasing down prize money, but I am a real, serious runner and it is obvious to everyone who meets me. Even though I am not training for anything, I am maintaining more than 25 miles per week. There is no longer any way for me to deny my status as “a runner.”
And somewhere along the way I realized I had gotten much better … drastically better … light-freaking-years-better at being a runner, and that I deserved the title. “How?” you may ask. “What’s your secret special sauce to becoming better?” Read more >>