I’m horrified to discover that, somewhere along the meanderings of my life, I’ve collected some runners along the way. I’d call them “friends who run”, but that doesn’t really seem to cover the collective insanity that runners embody. They go out running in weather that is too cold, too wet, too hot, too dry. They track their time, they track their distance using cool gadgets like Nike+ (which, by the way, I could totally get into if I didn’t also have to run in order to use it). They may actually look normal in real life, but get them into running mode and you find they wear oddities that no other people in their right minds would be seen wearing: lycra, spandex, bibs, fanny packs, water bottles. Their shoes have enough technology in them to launch a NASA shuttle. Or, they don’t wear shoes as much as what I fondly refer to as Hobbit feet (although, in retrospect, they really seem to be more gorilla-like. My bad.). They eat protein goop along the run, and can be seen equally running solo or running in packs.
And yet, I keep befriending them. Because, really, other than this particular personal flaw, these are some of the smartest, funniest, coolest people I know (and I feel I must say yet again, in my own defense, these people look normal, if a little too healthy, at first glance). My friend Jeff just recently blogged about running alfresco (I’ll leave the explaining to him); my friend Allan is such the geeky runner, he has a long running (ouch; unintentional) blog and recently-featured-on-iTunes running podcast; and I swear to God my multitasking friends and co-knitpistols Stevie and Hannah would run and knit at the same time, if they could. Frankly, I’d be shocked if they haven’t at least tried it.