I don’t know if it’s just me or if this is generally true but runners are kinda, sorta weird. I had a random “Oh…!” moment when this occurred to me. I started thinking about the group of runners I was first exposed to–my high school cross country team. Honestly, the majority of them were truly weird. Then I thought specifically of my brother, who was also in the xc team and is a great athlete. My brother…of course I view him as weird–each and every one of my siblings is! Next, my neighbor who runs around the block. He’s weird, for sure.
Then there’s myself. Am I weird? You know, what? I think I just may be.
Seriously, who actively strives for a combination of obscene mileages and paces? Or gladly beats the sunrise to cross off a ridiculously long run while everyone is just waking up–rain or shine, cold and heat. Who loves carbs? Who in the world says “fartlek”? Most importantly, who works out strapped with snacks and GU?? Myself. Runners.
Yeah, we aren’t a normal group of people. We are adventurous. We are dedicated. We are strong. We are runners.
Running has been such a critical part of my life. It’s made me weird but that’s ok. I’m thankful for it.
Runners are weird.