I'm convinced that southern Minnesotans are addicted to running and they're eager to hook others, kind of like heroin dealers hoping to build a clientele by offering free samples. I've received so many offers for weekend running partners, 5K trainers and marathon-training buddies that I'm running out of humorous/polite ways to say, "Have you met my butt? Because it's not ready to move that quickly."
Even if I was tiny, I cannot imagine having the desire to run. I often wonder what these people are getting out of it. Must be good, considering they hit the streets at least several days a week and post status updates on Facebook about whatever hill they conquered and how many miles they did in however many minutes. I've heard about "runner's high," which I'm sure must feel good to these people. Maybe that's the secret to the addiction.
But you know what feels good to me? Recliner's high. Or at least An-hour-of-exercise-that-doesn't-take-me-miles-away-so-I-can-easily-quit-when-I'm-tired high.
It's not that I don't appreciate the kind offers to turn me into a runner, which clearly many people hold in high regard around here. But it's just not something I want to do. The funniest part is being honest with said runners and saying these exact words. I get a sense that some of them don't understand me, like saying "I have no desire to run" sounds as strange to them as someone saying to me, "I don't like sweets."
To each her own, I guess. (And, yes, I have heard of couch to 5K programs, and, no, that doesn't change anything. You are a persuasive bunch!)