I was an obsessive runner back in the day, particularly during my years in Chicago. Come rain or come shine, I’d be out there, pounding the pavement along the Lake Shore. My friend Jackie (we went to college together, and when I first moved to Chicago, I crashed with her) was also big into running and we started signing up for 5ks. It was this weekend ritual for us, every Saturday we’d do another one, congregate in different areas of Chicago with the throngs of other runner nerds. More often than not, I was rolling out of his bed directly onto the 5k route. I can tell these particular photos were taken on such a morning because that’s his bandana! It didn’t matter that I had been up all night with him. I was young! Burn that candle at both ends. Besides, nothing like running a 5k to wake you up. I may have been an obsessive runner, but caring about SPEED/TIME was not my thing. I didn’t care. I ran because it made me feel great and it transformed my body in a very short period of time. I wasn’t competitive about running. For example, the first 5k I ran, I came in fourth to last. I bragged about it. I kept my expectations low. The next one I ran I was determined to come in FIFTH to last. I loved the ritual of it, and I loved doing it with Jackie, my dear friend.
