How to become a runner: Rule #1

Rule#1
The first rule of running is to talk about running as much as possible. Talk about how far you plan to run later that day...talk about what your favorite playlist for running is...talk about how much your knees will probably hurt when you run later -- or better yet, how much they hurt already from all of the running you've done in the past. Basically, to talk about being a runner is to be a runner. Runners love to commiserate, compare, complain almost as much as they like to run. So really, if you can master this aspect of the sport, you'll be a great runner. And if you really excel at this part, you may hardly have to run at all.

p.s.
When you can, throw around the term "plantars fasciitis" - it will bump you up into the next level.

How to become a runner

Anyone can be a runner - seriously. Try this:

Go out your front door.
Run as fast as you can, in a straight line, away from your house.
Run until you need to use the bathroom, then turn around and run home as fast as you can.

I know this works, because I've done it unintentionally many times.

How to become a runner: Rule #3

Anyone can be a runner, but how do you become a runner with flair, pizazz, that je ne sais quois that makes people sit up and take notice? Things I've personally found that work:

-a Walkman instead of an i-Pod
-my 1992 college cross country jersey (on my 2013 body)
-a steady humming along with aforementioned Walkman, and
-an intermittent use of jazz hands

These are things that will have people gawking and coveting long after you pass...thinking, "yeah, she's got what it takes. Maybe running is for me."

How to become a runner: Rule #4

Am I the only one who pictures myself in the opening sequence of the Drew Carey Show when I run through town??? Waiting for neighbors to join in from the curb and dance me down the street in some kind of Broadway line dance?

I've run outside for years. Don't do that. The longer you run, the more comfortable you get with it. The world begins to feel like your own personal treadmill. Your music is on, it's sunny, everything is rainbows and unicorns, the neighbors are outside to greet you and cheer you on...but they're not. They're just getting their mail. And guess what; you aren't running as fast as you think you are. And guess what again; they're only looking at you at all, because they heard you breathing hard coming around the corner, and they thought Darth Vader was sneaking up on them.

So, run if you must, but keep your wits about you, eh? Remember, most people hate running. They won't join you, but that's okay. You've got Eminem and your aching knees to keep you company.

clever humans: my long distance relationship with steve martin

It's true; distance can strain a relationship. For instance, my long and complicated relationship with
Steve Martin.  It suffered under the weight of his absence....well, that and his lack of knowledge of the relationship.

Wait, let me start again. It's true one-sided-ness can strain a relationship.

Shortly after I discovered KISS, I discovered Steve Martin. While other third-graders were going to bed at 8pm, I was encouraged by my father to stay up late, i.e., "you've got to see this guy do stand-up. He's hilarious!" Rabbit ears, an arrow through the head, happy feet, the non-conformist's oath...what wasn't there to love? That year I went to school for career day as Steve Martin.  (In hindsight, I am fairly certain we were supposed to dress as an occupation, not particular individual, but the instructions were vague).  As I read my one-page essay covering the pros and cons of following in his footsteps professionally, did teachers toy with the idea of a home visit? Did they worry what kind of parents encourage their eight-year-olds to stay up for Saturday Night Live?

Nowadays, every 30 or 40-something claims they always loved Steve Martin, but I ask, did you have pin ups of him in your dorm room? Did you write him fan letters addressed to simply "Hollywod?"  Could you perform King Tut choreography in a pinch even now, 30 years after it aired? Well, perhaps you could. But did you read his plays, appreciate his books, worry about him when he went through a gloomy phase in the 90s? Ah, Steve, they hardly knew ye. But I knew ye.

Let it be clear, I didn't have a crush on Mr. Martin. I didn't want to marry him or date him. I just wanted him to move in down the street for the summer, so we could go to swim team together or something.

Today, I wish him well. The banjo career's nice. I always knew he had it in him. By the way, two years after that first career day, I went to school as a lawyer. Snooze, snooze. However, I did receive a banjo for Christmas in Steve's honor.