On Saturday morning, I got up at 5 am to run 10 miles. I finished in 1:37, without stopping once. I ran a negative split, which means that I ran the last five miles faster than the first five. And the fastest mile I ran was the very last one.
* * * * *
Him: So you’re a pretty serious runner?
Me: Oh, no, not serious … I just run a lot.
* * * * *
I spent most of Saturday’s run thinking about that conversation, and about why I don’t think of myself as a “serious” runner. There are a lot of reasons. Serious runners are faster than I am; they run further than I do. They are thinner than I am, and stronger. They look better in compression shorts.
All of that is ridiculous, I know. I had a terrible run at the Dallas Marathon and still finished in the top third in my age group, and ahead of over half of the men who ran the half marathon that day. If I didn’t take running seriously, I wouldn’t be able to do that. I train carefully for my races, and I show up for every run intending to do my best, whether it’s a half marathon or an easy four miles.
So why don’t I think of myself as a “serious” runner? Continue reading


