As a person who has absolutely fallen in love with running, I cannot imagine otherwise. Choosing not to run and/or choosing not to love running. Maybe it’s just a reflection on my personality for wearing my heart on my sleeve, but I was reminded yesterday why I keep going back to look for those moments.
The group run this past weekend was hosted by a local running store as a preview for the Publix Georgia race course. And as race courses go, it was brutal with inclines and hills and mountains.
As usual, I was at the back of the pack with my running buddy and we found ourselves lost twice (yes, even with maps in hand). There were a few other runners with us, a couple of single runners amongst a small group. Runners with headphones in their ears, music that we could hear and zoned out. When we got lost, I was surprised to see them going off in random directions without a glance at the others. Alone. I can only hope they were familiar with those neighborhoods. When they finally discovered that they’d veered off to the wrong path, there were explicitly dropped curses.
After the first few times, my running buddy and I left them alone and went along our way. It then stuck me that maybe not everyone enjoys running as much (and they at least don’t talk as much as I do!).
All of us did the miles, they finished strong, but they were in their own bubble. Pity, because it would’ve been the perfect time to make some new friends. So much in contrast to the guy who flew past us 4-5 times (that’s how many times he got lost), joking after the first time and who found me at the end to exchange run notes.
This is in no way saying that they weren’t enjoying the run, just that they didn’t give the appearance of it. And yes, I realize the post comes across completely judgemental.
But it reinforced that, to me, running is so much more than miles and pace and races and bling. It is celebrating life, love and freedom.
And fun! So much fun! With friends old and new!
That’s why I always go back. For more fun!
