Kay and I braved the 91 degree weather to go running with the nice folks at Omega Sports yesterday. Or, rather, to go running way behind them. Since I regularly run with a bunch of people at my pace, I am not used to feeling slow. Kay and I started off at our usual pace and within 5 minutes we couldn't even see the rest of the group. By the time we got back to the store, all of the other runners had gone home.
A year ago, I would have been bummed out by this experience. I would have gone home, tossed my running shoes aside, and thought deeply about whether I was a fool for calling myself a "runner." Yet, with a year and a half of running under my belt, I know that I am a real runner. I don't even question it. Last week, I ran 15+ miles with my running friends. We probably ran an 11 minute pace (not that it matters).
On our run back last night, one of the run leaders told Kay and I to be sure to come into the store when we finished our run. While running we joked that maybe he wanted to tell us that their store run didn't support slower runners. It turns out that he wanted to invite us to an upcoming 5K. When we told him that we had to run a longer distance the day of the 5K because of our marathon training, he was very impressed. It turns out that he never runs more than four or five miles at a time.
One of the things I love about running is that there are so many definitions of what makes a runner. It doesn't matter how fast or far you run -- just that you love to run.