My best friend (and co-author of this blog) sent me this pic after a discussion we had about running. I constantly complain about what a slow runner I am and feel ashamed by it. Pretty much, there's no difference between my "fast walk" and my "run," other than that fact that I'm bouncing in the latter. It's embarrassing when my husband, the BFF, and most runner friends I have are out running half marathons while I'm still trying to master the 5k. I'm heavier, slower, and more out of shape than pretty much every runner I know.
I often envision "real runners" (as opposed to fake runners like myself? :-/ ) judging me about everything from my speed to my form to the tiny water bottle that I sometimes carry in the pocket of my hoodie. "Real runners" are fast and run with grace and never need an occasional sip so not to choke on their spit. I guess the truth is that there are some of those Judgy McJudgersons out there. They are the ones who have created 90% of the condescending fitness images on Pinterest. But in truth, most runners are out there running for themselves. They're not judging me or belittling me. Most likely, the only thought they're sending my way is whether or not they can pass me (in a good, competitive way!). The majority of runners are supportive of one another and want to recruit as many people as possible to join this unspoken club of which we are all a part. Many of them have probably been in my shoes--slow, overweight, out-of-shape... but determined.
Though my times are slow and my collective miles are few, I'm moving. I go out 3x a week (when there's sun and I'm not freezing!) and try to get a little better. I imagine zombies chasing me while I pad away to Miranda Lambert and System of a Down. I wipe snot on my sleeve, turn as red as a beet, and breathe like a sleeping bulldog. It ain't pretty, but it's real. I am a turtle stampeding her way through a bog of peanut butter, but damn it if I'm not a real runner too.
~Raye
