Have you seen those commercials for some running shoe that say: "Running knows you want to stay in bed. Running doesn't care." Or "You and Running broke up awhile back. But now you see Running every where. And Running is looking GOOD." Sad to say, I really relate to those. Right now, I feel like a kid stuck at home sick on a Saturday.
I can't believe I find the fact that I won't be running 15 miles today disappointing instead of a great relief. I can't believe I'm an avid runner.
Most people who've known me a long time probably wouldn't believe it either. But it's a fact.
I think I started running socially. There's a group of gay runners here on the Peninsula and I thought it might be a nice way to network for my business. They have a walking group, too, and I figured I'd go to that.
But then of course all the cute guys were running, so I guess that motivated me.
That was all well and good for awhile. But I should have known I was getting addicted the day I first ran alone.
Again, it started as a walk that just didn't feel fast enough. Soon, I was trotting along. Before long, I was running 3 or 4 times a week. My relationships suffered. My job mattered less.
I started spending money on my habit. My biggest problem was pace. Like a plow-mule getting closer to the barn, I tend to speed up the more I go, until I'm finally too exhausted to continue. So I bought a GPS watch to measure my speed and learned to pace myself, which really helped a lot.
But that wasn't enough. I had to have good shoes, lightweight clothes made of breathable material, and a water bottle.
Soon, a quick fix wouldn't do it. I found myself partaking for longer and longer stretches.
So today I'm sitting here with a cold. It's Thursday. It's Long Run Day. And I'm going through withdrawals.