I’m not a REAL runner

Real runners like to run outside and enjoy the scenery and run for the joy of it. At least, that’s what SEEMS to be the case. I’m not a real runner.

First clue: I like to run on the treadmill. I’d rather run on the treadmill than anywhere else. There are a lot of reasons for this, the first being my Barefoot shoes. Since my last pair of “running” shoes (possibly in conjunction with running on the road) gave me Achilles tendonitis, the Barefoot shoes have made a resurgence. No Achilles tendonitis. Also, no running outside -what with the snow and ice and Barefoot shoes. My love of the treadmill is bigger than shoes.

When I was in junior high and high school I ran track. I ran sprints, more specifically – at one point or another, everything from the 100 to the half mile. Either through lack of coaching or sheer stubbornness, I managed to avoid distance training. The end result is that I have two comfortable speeds – walking and sprinting. The treadmill is good because when I’m running a program it forces me to adjust my stride and speed, which I wouldn’t do running on my own. As a result, I get a better overall workout.

I’m also competitive, though mostly with myself. I don’t like running with other people because it puts me off MY pace (see above) and the treadmill insures that doesn’t happen. More importantly, if I’m tired or slacking I have to OWN it. When I’m outside running, I can kind of slow down and there’s no real consequence. On the treadmill I actually have to admit surrender or defeat and HIT THE BUTTON to slow down.

The other thing that proves I’m not a real runner is how loud I am. If my life ever depends on running through a deserted building or silent forest at midnight to avoid a psychopath, I’m fucked. I sound like a Clydesdale on a hamster wheel. My husband – more than twice my size – runs more quietly than I do. I’m not sure why – maybe it’s the footfall (I run on the ball of my foot) but I’m LOUD. Treadmills mean I can keep it a secret.