Yes, you may call me fast

Those people used to annoy me. They would open their big mouths and whine about how they needed it, and I would roll my eyes. Please, I thought, your not fooling anyone.

Nobody really wants to run. For miles. We all would prefer just to sit on the sofa watching Arrested Development and eating pizza. I was sure of it. Until it happened to me.

I want to run. Every day. On days that I don't run I feel sluggish, lazy and crabby. I don't think I really experience the "runners high" on a regular basis, I don't believe it's the endorphins, but rather the the way I feel about myself when I'm running. Strong, dedicated, ambitious, determined. I like those qualities and running has helped me realize them within myself.

I like the challange, the sense of achievment when reaching a new goal. The problem is I am human and with limitations. I don't think I can run a marathon. It isn't that I don't have the stamina, it is that I don't think I can do it without injuring myself. My knee gets sore from time to time, I have the haunting memory of last year's stress fracture in the back of mind and I do not want to end up benched.

Yet I still want to mix things up and push myself harder and harder. Today I achieved this goal with speed. I ran four miles at an average of eight minutes twenty seconds. For me, that is quiet speedy.

I have already signed up for my next half marathon, this fall in Denver. I am so looking forward to it. I briefly debated doing the full but instead I think I am going to focus on speed, completing my next half faster than my last.

So for better or for worse I have turned into one of those people. A runner. An addict. And I love it.

Notice my spiffy shirt from the Pleasanton Half!