Some I could easily change – but I won't.
1. I set the lap chime on my Garmin to go off every quarter of a mile. When I use The Device, I like to know my splits. I like to know lots of splits. Even on long runs. And races.
"OMG! was that a mile already?"
"Uh, no. Sorry. Just a quarter."
"Mutherfucker! Get away from me with your irritating beep shit!"
Yeah, I run alone a lot.
2. In races I'll home in on someone ahead of me running my pace and use them as my unwitting pacer. Yes, a lot of people do that buttttttttttt –
Most people don't go up to the unofficial pacer at a water stop late in the race and say,
"GREAT PACE! I HOPE YOU DON'T MIND THAT I'M TOTALLY SUCKING OFF YOU!"
I'm not intending to sound like an asshole. In fact, I really am infinitely appreciative and would love to reciprocate a few minutes later when I blow past them. In fact, I usually voice this desire,
"C'mon!" I'll wheeze. "Let's go! We've got this! You got us this far – I'll take us in! Let's go, NOW!"
Yeah, the look of bewilderment on the pacer's face could almost be mistaken for fury.
3. If it's hot out, I might run in just my sports bra. And I'll be comfortable with it even if you're not. Shit. I might even run in just a sports bra when it's cold out.
4. I don't think you're cool if you run when you're hurting, and I don't think you're a badass if you run when you're sick. This is not to be confused with making a workout hurt or running until you puke, which are cool and badass.
5. I can go for a run pretty much whenever I want. As long as it's during the tiny window of time when my kids are all somehow being cared for by someone other than me. I'm a stay-at-home-mom blogger. It's such a cush fucking life. I'm sure all the other stay-at-home-mom bloggers will agree with that. The next time you see a woman out running at 9 or 10 or 11 in the morning and decide to hate her because you're jealous (or whatever), try to understand that you are seeing a 5-second snapshot of her life. You aren't seeing that she was awakened at 5:30 by a toddler screaming about nothing and then wanting to be in mommy's bed where she unintentionally kicked mommy for an hour until it was "time to get up." And you aren't watching her make 5 breakfasts and lunches and make sure that clothes are on and teeth are brushed and homework put into backpacks that make it into the car. And you aren't seeing her trying to take a shit by herself while her 3-year old pounds on the bathroom door so hard she swears it will break right out of its hinges as she realizes that she is way too tense now to take that shit and since this happens every fucking day she has a chronic constipation problem. You're not in the minivan with her as she deals with SCREAMING and BICKERING all the fucking way to school in heavy rush hour traffic where she finally unloads this enviable mess that creates the situation that allows her to run at a hate-able time of day.
The next time you see someone out running at a glorious and leisurely-seeming time of day, smile and be glad for them that they were able to get a run in.
The story is always, always, always bigger than that 5-second snapshot.