I went for a run today, on the treadmill. Even though I have been running regularly sometimes I forget just how much I love it. If you have been reading my blog you know that I have tried out a few other things lately, like Spinning and Moksha Yoga. In the end though my heart belongs to running. There is something to be said for the comfort of not having to think about anything extra (although I do worry about falling off the treadmill – A LOT – even though it has yet to happen), and just putting one foot in front of the other and going hard. Whether on a treadmill or outside I can just let my thoughts go and push myself as hard as I feel like and I know I can do it. I can get through the run because it’s running and I am a runner. I have been running for I think eight years now – really running, continuously, with only small breaks here and there. So I think I can finally call myself a runner. I used to think that term only applied to elite marathoners or super-fast dedicated fancy runners, but my definition has grown to include people like myself who just get out there and run several times a week, no matter the season or excuses. I may not be fast or fancy or elite, but I am consistent and strong and happy to be running. I actually get that runner’s high that makes me feel like a super hero after each run. I feel powerful and fabulous, kind of like I could take on the world. Makes sense, because I AM a runner.