I was pretty stoked when this happened.
Every time I went out, I felt like some kind of interloper or poser. I’m not “really” a runner. I don’t look like one. I don’t dress like one. I’m not sleek and svelte… So when someone waved at me as I ran past and said, “HI!” I was surprised and happy.
Of course, I know that if I step out and run, that makes me a runner. Maybe not a marathoner, or what, but I run. I push myself. I’m doing something I question every time I step out to do it. My legs hurt, my lungs burn, and I sweat. I run.