This morning I watched a hilarious video, posted by a fellow runner, on Facebook.
Created by "Marunthon," a running Facebook page, the short clip depicted two office workers, a male and a female, discussing the gentleman's running addiction.
He told his fellow employee about how he ran 15 miles prior to work, and how he plans to run several 20-milers in preparation for his upcoming marathon.
When she asked, "What is a marathon?" he proceeded to offer a brief history lesson, dating back to ancient Greece.
He also described the pain, the inability to walk properly for several days after the race, the fact that he's doing it for a medal, just like everyone else who crosses the finish line will receive, and the acceptance that, no, he will not "win" the race.
As she suggests he may want to consider visiting the company psychologist, (who is also a runner) he proceeds to tell her how his clothes are already laid out for tomorrow's training run, scheduled for 5:30 a.m.
At the end of the conversation, she requests a transfer to a different division of the company.
Although it's a parody, most of us have found ourselves in the position of the guy in this video. Often, when we speak with a non-runner, we may as well be talking to them in Mandarin Chinese.
I once returned home after a very successful race at the Boston Marathon, where I placed 125th. My running friends congratulated me, applauded my effort, and envied my good fortune. At a fundraising event for a politician who happened to be running for state office, the aforementioned phony replied, when informed of my accomplishment, "Well, there's always next year." By the way, he lost the election.
Fact is, we arise at 5:00 a.m. for a workout. We run through every conceivable weather condition. Most of us don't do it for glory or financial gain. We run because we love to run. We know we love to run because when an injury or infirmity prevents us from running, we become sad, irritable, and sometimes downright crazy.
It doesn't matter why you run, how you run, or how fast. What matters is, you're a runner, and you don't need to explain or justify it to anyone.
Ours is not to reason why.
It's time for a run.