The cult of running
I am the member of a cult. Oh, it out started innocently enough, as these things often do. Walking just wasn’t enough for me. It just didn’t give me the buzz I needed. I wanted more. I needed more. I had to run. At first it was a few metres here, a few metres there.
Before I knew it, I was running a kilometre, then three, then five, now 10. I didn’t know it would become such an obsession. I didn’t know that I would find it so satisfying. I didn’t know that it would get me out of bed in the dark, in freezing conditions in the middle of winter. I didn’t know that I could push my body to its limit and love it. I didn’t know.
But knowing what I know, I wouldn’t change a thing. Running is part of who I am now. It is my identity: I run, therefore I am.
My name is Diane. I am a runner.
My name is Gary and I’m a walker (mostly stroller)
With the amount you eat, you *should* be a candidate for The Biggest Loser, Gary! You must be blessed with a super human metabolism to keep your svelte line!
Thanks Diane. I hope this lasts 🙂
I’m a runner, but only on the tread mill……does that count?…lol..I still get a huge buzz out of it, but I need the lack of outside variable conditions and forced continuous speed to completely concentrate on sticking at it and not giving in to a walk too often. You rock Diane!
Treadmill totally counts, Mary! Doesn’t matter where, as long as you do!
I am Susan, I am an Artist, Writer, Blogger and Walker…. Hee, Hee
Oh and I think it is really cool that you are a runner. 🙂
Thank you, Susan! It’s funny when we discover things about ourselves that we wished we’d known earlier. But I guess that’s why life’s a journey…!