Runners on Parade
Yes, I’ve been listening to my Rage Against the Machine station on Pandora this morning.
I think when most non-running people picture runners & races, they get images of thousands of runners crammed on some urban street, hemmed in by the sidewalks & buildings. It’s a parade of runners.
Runners on Parade.
Trotted out for the world to see, living in this perpetual race-day bubble of excitement, pomp, and the pretentious gluttony of taking part in something that feels elite.
Because, honestly, you feel really good about yourself when you’re at a race site. Sure, you may be nervous and a total rookie, but when you’re surrounded by the energy of hundreds or thousands of others, you get hooked. You realize that, though there are tons of others running this race, you’re joining in the growing minority of humans who are working hard to be healthy & athletic. For most of us, being “athletic” post-high school means taking up something like running or cycling. This moves us back into the realm of “athlete.” And it feels darn good. And in a lot of ways, I feel that this is the picture the non-running segment of the population has of the running community. A bunch of pretentious wanna-be athletes glad-handing each other about paces, personal records, and accomplishments. Desperate attempts to be successful and elite in something.
But those of us who run know that nothing could be further from the truth.
When you ask me about running, I don’t picture runners on parade.
I think about staggering along at mile 8 of a tough 10 miler in the humidity.
I think about a quick 3 miler in the morning before work or in the evening after everyone else has gone to bed.
I think about a tempo 6 mile run squeezed in between work and evening plans.
There’s a ton of solo runs, sweat, and hard work that goes into being a runner—whether you’re a seasoned vet or a beginner.
Sure, Race day is a huge payoff. But we run for the journey, for the right to unencumber ourselves, and for the payoff that is getting in better shape.
Today when you run there will be no parade-like circumstances to greet you:
as you cross the starting line,
as you struggle at mile 5,
as you round the corner and head for the finish.
But I know & you know—that’s not why you run.
I'm a runner, writer, thinker, and pastor. I love to agitate people's consciences. I like to spend my time reading, running, and relaxing with family & friends.