I had a dream last night that I was running with someone else.
I know this was a dream because…well…it was a dream.
However, had I not been completely, entirely sure that this occurred during the REM phase, I would’ve still know that it did not happen while I was awake, coherent, and had my wits about me. Because I don’t run with people. If I’m running on a treadmill at the gym and someone steps on the treadmill next to me, I cringe. I start to panic. My breathing gets all sillyfied. I lose all focus. I have to talk myself into staying ON the treadmill.
At some point in my life, I came under the impression that when good runners run, they don’t struggle. They don’t sweat. They don’t make grunting noises as their lungs beg for air. They just calmly, quietly, beautifully run their 20 mile run.
Those are the people who can run next to each other on the treadmill. Those quiet, beautiful, calm runner types.
That is so not me. I am a hot mess when I run. That time when My Gazelle so lovingly offered to run a race beside me was pure horror to me. The thought of struggling, grunting, and snotting all over myself with him beautifully running right next to me was too much for my weak psyche to process. Thank Baby Jesus that he changed his mind in the first 1/4 mile, because I was really considering faking an injury. We’ve only been together for 2 years, and I didn’t think that any 2 year young relationship should have to cope with turmoil of the grunting, snotting sort.
All of that said, much like my irrational fear of Running Clubs (“Runningclubophobia?”), I suffer a similar fear of Running Partners (“Runningpartnerophobia?”). I immediately fall to the floor and begin to convulse at the mere thought of adopting a running partner. So many scary things to consider. Mostly the fact that I don’t think anyone on the face of the universe runs as slow as I do or struggles as much as I do to just get in a measly 3 miles.
And then, I started this blog. And then, I started reading other people’s blogs. And then, I started reading about people who run with other people, and it seemed enjoyable. Pleasing even. Fulfilling.
And then, My Sista (who might have only dropped her phone in the toilet once, but does have a habit of soggifying her phone in other creative ways) gave me the January issue of Runners World. And then, I read this article. And then, I felt all warm and squishy on the inside. And then, I fell asleep and had a dream about running with another human (rather than my standard canine) next to me.
I’m actually considering hunting down one of these “Running Partner” things now. I feel all girl power after reading the article about Sara and Claire.
Have any of you successfully made the transition from snorting, grunting, hot mess, solo running to beautiful, graceful, chit-chatty, partner running? If so, do speak up. Even if you’re just lurking. Be anonymous…make a secret, anonymous comment. I promise I won’t make you come back here…I just need help wrapping my brain around this concept that I’m toying with.
