I am a runner

So, Monday's sabotage didn't end my exercise Augustathon. No sir!

I got home, had a light dinner, relaxed for a half hour, and then went down to the treadmill and ran my usual treadmill workout, at a slightly faster pace than usual. I was challenged but not beaten by the workout, and it was a huge ego boost to run the whole workout at a higher pace than usual.

In related news, my wife picked up some new running shoes and grabbed me a pair of "real" running shorts. I tried not to feel like a fraud as I was gave them a test run. :)

I had another moment of revelation yesterday, though. I was driving my mother to the grocery store, and as I rounded a corner and started to drive down a hill, a runner was running along the side of the road. This woman looked beaten, exhausted, spent, and yet fast, fit, and determined. She was making it up this hill come hell or high water. And instead of thinking, "What is that crazy woman doing?" I though, "You can do it!" I identified with the myriad of complex emotions on her face, her body language, her obvious strength and exhausted stance.

I don't know what kind of runner she was (I suspect her talent far outpaces mine), but I felt in that instant that we shared something. We spoke the same secret language, even if we speak it in vastly different dialects.

I always shy from saying I'm a runner. I say things like, "I'm doing some running to help get in better shape" or "I like to run sometimes."

Bah, to hell with that. I saw it yesterday. I'm a runner.