It's a question of symantics

Thanks to all who have asked about how Christopher is fairing; he's over the worst of the walking pneumonia, meds are finished, fever gone, but cough and gunky nose linger still. Most of the time he's a happy and joyfilled 2-yr old, but when he is tired, he's a major crankpot still. We are having issues sleeping; no naps and waking several times during the night and refusing to go back to sleep. Could be bug-related, could be any number of things. After all, he is two. Uncertainty is the name of the game at this stage! Parker has now developed a nasty sounding cough, so keep your fingers crossed that it is just a case of the gunks, and not what his brother had!

So, I have managed to get a couple of runs in over the last week. In fact, last Sunday was the PFChang's Rock and Roll Marathon. (Not that I participated in it) It turns out several of my colleagues ran in it!! I think one did the whole thing and the others did the 1/2 marathon, which in my book is still freakin' crazy - running 13.1 miles?? WOWZA! At any rate, I was in the hall the other day, came upon two of the runners (one was our Principal) who were comparing notes, what would you do differently next tinme, yadda, yadda... The talk started about getting a group of runners together from the school. (Mention of making t-shirts followed). As they were going down the list of folks who run, I mentioned one of our assistant Principals also runs. In fact, I have literally run into him while out on my runs, because he lives about 3 streets from me.

Now, the comment that followed could have more to do with the strained working relationship between the two folks at the helm of the school than with their attitudes toward we slower runners, but she commented something to the effect that "he's only a jogger".

So, what exactly did she mean by ONLY A JOGGER? She said it dismissively, with with just a hint of superiority. As if "I'm a real runner; he's just a jogger". And what is so darn horrible with being a jogger, anyway? Obviously there is something awful about that term, because even I seem to want to insist on calling myself a runner! Yes, I am slow. No, I will never, ever be fast. No, I can't go far, but can run 4 miles pretty "easily". I know my pace probably renders me into the "jogging" category, so where is that line? You know, the one between jogger and runner? Well, according to my running hero John Bingham (who calls himself the Penguin and ends all his articles with "Waddle on Friends") if I think I am a runner, then I am one.

And I suppose I do consider myself a runner. I get up at the crack of Oh-My-Go-It-Is-Early to run before work, and will run into the late evening. If I miss a few days, I get all cranky and crabby. I need my runs. I may not go fast, I may not go far, but I run. I don't jog... I RUN.

And you know, its funny... running is the one thing that I really do NOT want to do with another person. I like my solitude. I like going at my own waddling pace. I like cranking my music, or looking at the sunset (or sunrise as is often the case). It's MY time... even if I do waddle and my symbol is a turtle.