An Open Letter to My Fellow Runner

Dear Runner that I see every Saturday morning while we’re both doing our long runs,

I’m sorry that introduction is super long, but I wanted to make sure that you know I’m talking about you—and not all the other runners I pass who are neither as consistent as you are nor as excited to see me as I’m excited to see them. (I fully realize that running turns me into an over excitable golden retriever. I appreciate your lack of judgement.)

Thank you for cheering me on every week—and for letting me cheer you on. Some of my favorite runs are when I get to see you twice as we run the loop of base in opposite directions. Also, thanks for being willing to high five my sweat-slick palm when I’m already seven miles in and you’re probably having to hold your breath to not pass out as I run by.

Every week I contemplate turning around and asking if I can run with you. And every week I chicken out. But let me say this, if one day I do manage to get up the courage to do more than yell, “Way to rock it! Have a great run!” as we pass each other, and I finally introduce myself and ask if you want to let me tag along, I would celebrate both your yes and your no.

I would celebrate your yes because it would be really fun to get to know you and I love running with other people, but I’d also celebrate your no because that tells me that you know who you are and what you want out of life and are comfortable asking for it. And we really need more people like that in the world.

Until then, keep up the good running. Keep rocking your hydration vest that automatically proves that you’re a smarter runner than I am. And please—for the love of everything you hold dear—keep smiling at me and cheering me on when you see me because you have no idea how much I need that every week.

Also, you are awesome. I know that without having even met you. Just: for the record.

Yours in running shoes and sweat drenched clothing,

Marian