Run Sarah Run

I am a runner I love to run I love to feel the pavement on my feet, or the treadmill rubber. I love to run up hills and down hills and around corners and through people's backyards (kidding). I love to run. I love to run inside or outside, on streets or on trails. Doesn't matter. I get the elusive runner's high. I get tingly and euphoric after a run. I love to sweat and feel my legs burn, but I can only run about 6 miles in one stretch. I run every once in awhile with my neighbor down the street, and to put us both in the "runner" category is silly when you compare us side by side. I am probably more of a slow jogger compared to him, but for whatever reason he humors me. Apparently 6 miles is his freakin warm-up run. Seriously he slows to what I am sure is a painfully slow 9 minute mile for me and does his hour warm-up till he can get rid of me and do his actual run! Show off. I feel like I am going to have a heart attack after about 5 minutes in and then once I make it past that mark I am ok to go... as Mr Exercise does one armed push-ups waiting for me to regain normal breathing patterns. I am convinced that the reason I am only able to run 6 miles is more psychological than anything else. I have always ran 6 miles, never less never more everyday for the past 3 years. So maybe if I started to tell myself that I am going to run say 8 miles a day then my brain wouldn't automatically shut my feet off at the 6 mile mark? Hmmmm? According to Todd a.k.a. Mr Exercise, he has always ran long runs for as long as he can remember and thinks that I just need to push myself past the 6 mile marker and have more will power to go further. Fuck him. Who asked him anyway? The thing I hate ahem I mean admire about him is that he can run fast and long... I mean like marathon long and actually get a medal fast, not the "Nice try you actually got off your fat ass and came out and made it to the finish line" award the "Wow you ran 26 freakin miles in under 4 hours"medals. Bastard! I am glad to have someone who can run faster than me though since if I ran by myself there would be no one there to yell at me and call me names when I want to stop after the first block. I look up to him and am grateful that he has the patience to run with me and to listen to me babble along about everything. Even though he asked me today when I started to talk about my life "Don't you have a blog for that?" Nice huh? He won't win any personality awards but I love his calves and fast legs...in a purely platonic way of course. His legs are who my legs want to be like when they grow up . I want to buy expensive shoes, have a trophy case, and get excited over my race t-shirts.I want to run a marathon one day before I die. I think I will wait till I get to the older age bracket though, then at least the expectations go down. : )