Right Of Passage

I submerged myself into long distance running so quickly that I didnt know when I could officially call myself a runner.  My thought process was that I was among the elite of all athletes and I didnt want to just assume I was one of 'them'.  Was I supposed to wait for one of them to knight me?  When would I be ready to categorize myself as a runner, if ever?

I knew one thing...that I wanted the title...To be called something other than Scott, Dad, Husband, ETC.  I knew that once I had the title that life would be pure bliss and I would have a feeling  of belonging.

My time came unexpectidlely...

It all started with a craving for pizza while I was at work...I couldnt resist the urge to oder out (if you've had NJ pizza you would understand).  I ordered a large buffalo chicken style pizza from 'Mr. Brunos pizza'...when it finally had arrived my mouth was watering and the smell of buffalo chicken was in the air....TO THE BREAK ROOM!!  I sat down and opened up the box with every intention eating one or two slices and saving the rest for the next few meals.  One slice led to two and two to three and so forth...I COULDNT STOP!  It tasted so good!  I justified in my head using the excuse 'im training for a marathon I need the energy' or 'i'll just burn it off'.  After all, I was running home so I could get my 12 mile mandatory run in for the day and I was also averaging about 50 miles a week...whats one pizza?

The day went on and the entire pizza I consumed was soon forgotten about and the day came to an end.

I put on all my running gear...lights, reflective vest, head lamps, iPod, running waste pack (not fanny pack!).  I locked up the doors to the store and headed for home.  Because I was running more than 10 miles I started off fairly slow to get warmed up.  Three miles into the run I fealt my stomach turning...'uh oh' I thought to myself...I adjusted my my stride to allow proper 'cheeck squeezage' and I continued my run.  I ran like this for another two miles...My stomach was not happy and it wanted to get rid of monstrosity of a pizza that I had consumed several hours earlier.  I was now five miles into my run and had no choice but to 'let it all out'.
A long set of train tracks crossed over the road I was currently 'wobbling' on.  I turned quickly onto the tracks unstrapping all of my gear...I flung my running pack 10 feet in one direction, vest in the other and then 'AHHHH'...I will spare you anymore details.  I sat in the dark along side a rail road track with my running shorts around my ankles and my headphone cord dangling without an iPod attached (iPod in said 'flunged' running pack).  I began to look side to side with my headlamp looking for anything I could use 'make myself decent' so that I could continue my run.  Nothing, damn!  Not even a single shrubbery or a leaf!  I couldnt have picked a worse spot to squat!  I had no other choice but to continue my way home.  I reluctantly pulled my shorts up and started running.  Eventually I found the right stride and forgot about what had just happened.

I made it home and quickly hit the shower.  In the shower I had an epiphany or a vision of some sort.  It came to me as clear as day.  Was the 'train track incident' my right of passage as a runner?  Could it be?  Yes, Yes it was!  I could now officially refer to myself as a runner.  I am now part of the elite...suddenly we dont sound so elite.  What I have really come to realize is that runners are just a bunch of crazys peeing on peoples lawns and pooping on train tracks and anyone can become one.  Elites or everyone...either way im still happy to call myself a runner.

I will also add that whenever I go out for a 10+ mile run I bring baby wipes!