"You don't look like a runner."

I learned early on that I did not have an athletic bone in my body. Many times I was told that I “threw like a girl” or “ran like a girl” or simply, “You stink!” For a few summers I did play on a junior high softball team. During one game, as I stood out in right field, a woman spectator yelled at me, “You shouldn’t be playing. You’re no good. Let someone else play who is!” 

Needless to say, I did not excel at “sports.” But as Eleanor Oliphant* said: “I do not feel sorry for myself, not in the least. These are simply statements of fact.”

Still, I loved swimming in the pool down the street, bike riding, and running around the neighborhood. I did not take dance or gymnastics classes or play team sports. I basically “ran wild,” on my own. 

In college, I would wear a swim suit under my running clothes, run to the indoor pool, swim laps, put my running clothes back on over my swimsuit and run back to the dorm. In the winter sometimes my wet hair would freeze. Once, when I stepped into the dorm elevator, a girl asked, “What happened to your hair?” I explained my routine and she responded, “You don’t look like a runner.”

    

After college running took a backseat to family and work. When my children were babies, I would run in circles in our basement. When they were older, I woke up at 4 am to run while Dave got ready for work. Then I came home, Dave left, I got ready, woke up the children, and, finally, we were off and “running” to daycare, school and work.

I was 35 when I enlisted in the Air Force. In Boot Camp, I was our training flight’s PC monitor. I think I was chosen specifically because I “didn’t look like a runner.” Maybe the TIs thought it would be an easy way to get me, the oldest recruit, to “wash out.” Compared to the other recruits, I am sure I didn’t “look like a runner.” But I was. Every morning I set the pace as our flight ran in formation. On our last run, the TI shook his head, smiled ever-so-slightly, and said, “Ketron, you are a pocket rebel.”

After Boot Camp I was stationed at Keesler AFB for technical training. There I ran my first 5K. I was anxious about running in front of a crowd - “real” runners would see me! Fortunately my friends said, “Just run your own pace and remember free beer at the finish!” I passed a woman and the back of her shirt read, “Part-time Runner, Full-time Drinker.” I realized 99% of the runners were simply running for fun, just like me. Perhaps we didn’t look like runners, but we were running.

 After that first 5K, I was hooked on the positive energy of running events. I ran whenever, and wherever I could. (So far I have run on four continents.) About ten years ago, a co-worker asked me how I enjoyed my weekend off. I said," I had a great weekend, I ran a marathon.” My co-worker responded, “Wait, what? You don’t look like a runner!” 

I am a runner who is closer to life’s “finish line,” than to the start. I don’t know when, but someday I will no longer be able to run. I have no regrets about the role running has played in my life. While others focused on whether or not I “looked like a runner,” I focused on being a runner.


* “Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine,” by Gail Honeyman, an excellent book!