The Flat and Fast-held on the Fourth of July near Portland, OR-seemed like the perfect chance to meet my hastily conceived Boston goal and spend a few days in my old hometown stomping grounds. Any hesitation to being labeled an earnest runner is probably misplaced at this point, so I might as well admit that I'd like to get fast. )īut now I have a wall for old race bibs, entire drawers in my apartment just for hydration equipment, and genuine, heartfelt opinions about which Nuun flavors pair best with which Clif bars. (And kind of a hard vibe to maintain once you start working at Runner's World. The kind of runner who would never sign up for a race nor even consider herself a runner-leftover attitudes from a lifetime of being a nonathletic outsider. I used to pride myself on being a slow runner-the kind of runner who only ran alone, at night, in ratty old punk tees and beat-up sneakers. Play icon The triangle icon that indicates to playīut there was something about admitting I was trying to qualify for Boston that made me feel really vulnerable, like I was somehow putting it all out there and exposing my insecurities about not being a good-enough runner.Īfter all, when something doesn't come naturally to you, it's a lot easier to just do your thing and not show how much you care about it.
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