Runners are crazy

I’ve always suspected that marathon runners are masochists.

When I run the Chicago Marathon on 10.10.10, I guess I’ll find out if that’s true.

I’ve become a runner. I’m not sure if I have the right to even say that yet. Similar to how my preggers friend Megan says she feels when around mothers, I feel like a fraud when around runners. Like a rookie waiting for an official membership card to the runner’s club.

I've been cheating on this blog with these kicks.

If you’ve been to Lincoln Park on a Saturday, you probably already know this—there’s a whole running subculture in Chicago. I know lots of people who run, but I didn’t realize that there are hordes of people who wake up at the crack of dawn every Saturday morning to run along Lake Michigan. As my running partner/co-worker Elaine pointed out, “So, this is what people have been doing while I was sleeping late on Saturday.” Who knew?

Runners are an interesting, crazy group of people. I can say this because I am a “runner” now. It’s a sporty network where people share stories of running injuries, tips on the right shoes and clothes and wishes for improving their time. They know about things called Body Glide (no, it’s not inappropriate…surprisingly). These are people who run in running groups, pace groups and have coaches. And the funny thing is, I always thought running was a solitary sport.

I’ve been running regularly for a few months now, but I officially started marathon training two weeks ago. I think I’m starting to get why people love running. It has to do with pushing yourself to your physical limits and working toward a goal. I don’t love the act of running, but I’m hooked on that feeling you get right after you finish a run. A rush of endorphins and personal satisfaction. I can see how it makes people crazy enough to run a marathon.

Also, the views of the lake at 6:30 am are pretty stunning.