A stranger asked me today whether I am a runner. I thought about it for a few seconds. I’ve made it to the end of a number of races over the past eighteen months, in not too shabby finish times, but there are a lot of people a lot faster than me. I’ve recently got to know a bunch of people who frequently complete 50km ultramarathons and triathlons in spectacular times. Next to them, I feel like a bit of a fraud, like I’m not really doing it properly.
Then I thought back over the past twelve months, and the fact that I covered a total of 460 miles according to my tracker. Not bad really. My goal for 2015 is to get to 500 miles. Also, just before this conversation with the stranger, I had covered six miles under my own steam in an hour. That’s actually pretty impressive for anyone to do. So, yeah, I am a runner. Thanks for making me realise and accept that today, stranger.