Who's The Real Runner?

There's a disturbance of the FORCE within the Harris household. While it's taken for granted that I am the "runner" in the family, anyone paying attention these days would have to question whether my spot as "all-that-and-a-bag-of-chips" is being usurped by one laid-back CPA-type named Blair Harris. 

Blair started running last year as a way to maintain his weight loss and stay healthy. He doesn't get the same joy out of running I do--which makes me sad--but he sticks with it. He's been running 3 days a week consistently for months and has recently increased his mileage and (though he refuses to admit to it) his speed. 

What's embarrassing to face is that while I'm a faster runner than Blair, he's actually a better runner than me.

What I mean by this is that, rain, shine, or lung-deflating humidity, he gets his run in. My butt certainly isn't out on the streets of Madison at 5:30 am when it's cold and dark, but Blair's is.

I'll run to my treadmill if it drops below 40. Blair pulls on shorts and gloves and a hat and faces down Artic breezes.

I complain that having to take the cat to the vet completely messed up my day. Blair will meanwhile put in a 12-hour day and then come home and run. When I ask if he isn't tired he just shrugs and says, "Today is a running day." 

If only there were some way to meld us, bringing together his zen "get-'er-done" mindset with my competitive spirit. That would be a runner of unfathomable power. And ego. 

As it is, even though there's a lot of running going on in the Harris household, none of it is together. Blair prefers solitary runs while I'm a social beast. The best part of a long run to me is carbs and coffee afterward with friends. Blair enjoys finishing at our front door and being done with it. I like to relive each moment of the run ("And then at mile 7, I was like, 'Wow, I'm tired,'") while if you ask Blair about his run he'll shrug and say, "It was a run." 

Still, I like the fact that we share Garmins and shop for running shoes together. Blair came home from a 10-mile run on Saturday, dehydrated. It was a bonding moment. He's indicated an interest in doing some hill work and did not seem nauseated when I suggested we run it together. Progress. 

Running together, running apart, running inside, running out. 

The good part is that we're running.