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Every now and then, my “runner” shows through

Most of the time I go about my life thinking, feeling and acting like I’m a normal person, easily blending in with the non-runners around me. But every now and then I find myself in certain situations acting “out of the norm” and I remember that, “Oh ya, I’m a runner.” Some examples from a recent experience at a child’s birthday party:

The birthday was a swimming party. It all went fine until I found myself wincing, and easing into the pool ever so gingerly, anticipating the stinging which would tell me how badly I was chafed from that morning’s long run. Not too bad, although I got some odd looks from the marks I seem to constantly sport and tend to forget about.

somewhat permanently present chafe area
somewhat permanently present chafe area

Then I attempted to start up conversations by talking about the most current world issue: the men’s marathon world record of course, which had just been broken that morning! In my mind, the world had changed just a little bit as the limits of human potential had been stretched. I was received by either blank stares or pleasant nods and a change of subject. I made a mental note to brush up on non-running related current events to increase my ability to maintain interest in a conversation for more than thirty seconds.

 Wilson Kipsang sets a new World Record
Wilson Kipsang sets a new World Record

After the pool, it was on to the party room. It was a warm day, and almost everyone was in sandals, but I was working my fall footwear, hiding my callouses and damaged toe nails. I have been told by some pedicurists that my feet aren’t that bad. For a runner. But I was paying those people. I think I should take it to mean they are that bad.  For “normal” people. On with the fall weather and close-toed shoes regardless of the summer temperatures!

 

my party footwear
my party footwear
everyone else's
everyone else’s

Then it was pizza time. I tried to calmly graze on my one slice of pizza, but I was hungrily eyeballing all of the crusts on the kids’ plates which were left uneaten. Oh, sweet carbs!  I wondered if it would look too strange if I did a tour of the room, scooping up and eating all the left-over crusts.

how can you resist?
how can you resist?

In the end, although I’m different, most people are very accepting of my running quirkiness. In fact, despite my odd actions and appearances at that party, I ended up with a few more recruits to join me on my early morning runs. Just a warning: once you become one of us, you will never quite be the same!

 

 

 

 

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