Recently I ran across these descriptions of runners. Enjoy.
You might be a runner if . . .
*you wear a black, plastic sports watch with your dress clothes.
*you can remember your race time, placing, and splits from four years ago, but you can’t remember your anniversary
*you not only know how you did in a race, but you also know how every other runner finished
*you get up earlier to run on the weekends than you do for school or work
*you never have to buy another running shirt.
*every five years you can’t wait for your birthday because it puts you into another age group.
*your bathroom shower is a drying rack for sweaty running clothes.
*somebody hands you a cup of water and you have to restrain yourself from pouring it over your head.
You might be a trail runner if . . .
*your toenails are black.
*while your friends and family take the elevator, you take the stairs and and greet them when they exit the elevator.
*you use “8 mile run” and “easy run” in the same sentence.
*your highest heels are your training shoes.
*your Christmas, birthday, or gift list comes from the pages of Runners World.
*the concept of (only) three meals a day seems quaint.
*you can’t drive past a hill in the countryside without wondering if there’s access.
*you can operate your GPS running watch with no problem but can’t turn on the home stereo system.
*when you tell people that you run ultramarathons, they ask if you run it all at once or in stages, staying overnight in a motel.
*watching (the entire) New York Marathon on TV prompts you to go for a run.
Gotta run,
Craig