Joining the Club

Running stores::runners, as bars::alcoholics.

When I walked into my local running store yesterday afternoon, I replied to the owner’s greeting with “Hello.  I need some new running shoes.”  He could probably tell I was a little nervous and intimidated by all of the options gleaming before me.  Picture a deer in the headlights.  Yup.

As he walked me over to where the women’s running shoes were, Kevin asked me how much mileage I average in a week.  Hmmm… I’d never been asked before.  “Probably about 15 miles or so.  I don’t do anything crazy… but then again, I also said I’d never run,” I replied.  After a good chuckle, he responded with, “Well… you’re standing in my store.”

I felt welcomed into the club.  I was being treated as if I belonged.

I knew enough to know that having flat feet, I needed stability.  Something that my 1st pair of running shoes was beginning to lack due to wear.  After looking at my feet, and asking my shoe size, he disappeared into the stock room to gather a couple sizes of several different shoes.

I was happily trying shoes on (I am a woman, after all, haha), when another guy casually walked in.  He was carrying a gym bag, and greeting Kevin and his wife, Mary, ushered himself into one of the dressing rooms.  He emerged clad in all of his running gear, excited to get out and get a 20 mile run in before the snow began to accumulate.  They cheered him on, wished him well, and said they’d be there when he was done.  It was obvious that he, Kevin, and Mary were itching to get out there and weren’t at all excited about the coming snowstorm that would no doubt trap them indoors.  I was among kindred spirits, and it felt good.

Then Cathy came in.  I’d narrowed it down to 3 pairs that I’d put to my left in a pile of favorites, and was beginning to try them all on again.  She happily sat down and, upon trying a newer pair of the shoes she needed to replace, introduced herself and said to me, “You must be a runner, too!  Who else would be desperately trying to get in here before a snowstorm?  Where do you run?”

“Well, I’ve been running indoors since it’s been cold, but I’d MUCH rather run outside… I usually run the Struble,” I answered, thankful to have an answer.

“Me too,” she said.

I was one of them.  A runner.  Having just begun to train, I’ve been hesitant to refer to myself as such, but here I was being given that title.  It was being bestowed, like a new name.

I hung around a little longer, talking with my new friends, and walked out with a new pair of ADIDAS Supernovas.  Getting into my truck, I couldn’t help but think of the Cheers theme song…

Sometimes you want to go
Where everybody knows your name,
And they’re always glad you came;
You want to be where you can see,
Our troubles are all the same;
You want to be where everybody knows your name.

I’m planning to pop over on Monday to drop off my old shoes for the Perpetual Prosperity Pumps Foundation, and I can’t wait to go back and hang out for a little while.

My name is Lynda, and I’m becoming a runner.  I beginning to love it, and I don’t intend to ever quit.  Cheers.

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