What being a runner means to me

It’s taking the good with the bad. It’s setting goals and pushing your body beyond what you thought was possible. It’s the glory and the defeat. It’s about filling your mind with “I will,” “I can,” and “I am.” It’s what goes through your mind between miles one and ten, and ten and twenty.

There are those rare mornings when you wake up and feel great; the weather is perfect; the scenery is beautiful, and time seems to stand still. Those are the moments I run for.  

But being a runner is about so much more. 

It’s the mornings when you wake up and it’s raining and you wince at your stiff muscles and joints; you begrudgingly pull yourself out of bed and head out the door- pushing yourself through every step of the run. In the end, you feel a sense of pride along with relief and exhaustion. 

It’s when you stand in the frigid cold before the sun has come up alongside thousands of other runners huddled together waiting for the start of a race. 

It’s those final tenths of the mile where you sprint your heart out to cross the finish line regardless of how much your lungs burn or your legs ache; and basking in the adrenaline rush of completion.   

It’s the peace you feel within yourself when you look around and realize it is just you and the miles you have run and those that lie ahead- no one else is in sight. And it's about the solidarity you feel with every runner you have ever passed on a run.

It is a sense of self and pride you can never explain to anyone. It is what connects us and what separates us. Being a runner defines me.