The camaraderie of runners

(And yes...camaraderie is spelled right...I had to look it up)

January in Illinois is normally not a runner's dream.  By this time of year, we usually have at least 6 inches of snow on the ground and freezing cold temps that will make a runner's snot freeze in the first quarter mile.  When those days hit, I hit the treadmill.  But this year has been different.  We have had incredibly mild temperatures, with only a few weeks of really cold days.  The last week or so, we've seen the mercury dip into the teens and twenties.  But then we turn around today and the thermometer is dangerously close to forty!

My steadfast rule is that when the temperature dips below forty, I run inside.  I just don't enjoy running in the cold.  But today, I stepped out to run some errands and realized what a gorgeous day it was.  The thermometer in my car said 38 degrees, which by my book is too cold to run outside.  But the sun was shining so brightly, it was beckoning me to come out and play in it.  So on what is supposed to be a winter day, I put on my running tights, laced up my Saucony's, pulled my Bondiband over my ears, strapped on my Garmin and out the door I went.  I broke my cardinal rule of cold weather running, which is...don't do it.

But I am so glad I did.  Even a few days of cold weather that set in over the last week had started to bring in the inclination of cabin fever.  While it wasn't full blown, like it normally is by the beginning of January, it was starting to creep in.  One five mile run in the sunshine was all it took to sweep it away.

And  I wasn't the only one.  I probably came across a dozen other runners hitting the pavement today.  And I could see the look of contentment in each and every one of their eyes as we passed.  They looked as happy as I did, getting out to run in the middle of winter without having to wear a hundred layers and a snowsuit on top of it.  Not only that, but there is a camaraderie among runners that you don't get from other places.  When you pass another sweaty, redfaced runner on the street you exchange glances, as much of a smile as you can muster and almost always give and receive some sort of acknowledgement.  Every runner knows that the smallest bit of encouragement can go along way when you are ready to give up.  So I love it when I pass a runner and get a thumbs up, an a-ok sign or even just a small wave.  It makes me feel like a real runner.  It makes me feel accepted into a secret society of fit people.  And above all else, it give me some sort of super power to will my legs to keep going after one too many miles.  So I always try to extend the courtesy to other runners, my weapon of choice is the thumbs up.  It doesn't take too much energy and it always gets a smile and a nod.  Sometimes you can even see them hold their head up a little higher, which makes me smile too.  For on days like today, when I can get out and run amongst my peers, I am a runner, plain and simple.