I drank the Kool-Aid a long time ago -- I've been completely addicted to running, and running races for several years. It doesn't matter to me that I'm really not that fast, and that it never seems to get any easier. I just keep doing it, and when I'm not running or talking about running, I'm thinking about running. And like a good TV evangelist, I keep trying to get new converts. After I ran Twin Cities in 2006, my friend Shelley decided to run. I gave her all of my old Runner's World magazines and signed up for a Thanksgiving Day 5K with her. She trained for a couple of months and ran the 5K. And promptly quit running. Her husband Mac, who happens to be one of my closest friends, started running at the same time and is still going. He has slips in the road and tells me he's thinking about taking up cycling instead of running. He complains about his ankles hurting. I just tell him to toughen up and keep running. We have run a few races together and are planning on running Twin Cities '09.
I'm working on a new convert, my co-worker Ashley. She had her second baby around the time Sophie was born and is looking to recapture the pre-baby body. She's run a couple of miles at a time, but is scared to go further. I keep telling her to plan a day to stay after work and I'll run 3.1 with her to prove to herself that she can do it. So far, no go. But I'll keep working. Because, like the Jehovah's Witnesses who chase me down at the gas pumps and on the steps of the courthouse, I'm no quitter. And I just can't take the hint.