"Good for you!"

Someone I know asked me how far I ran this morning. Considering the fact that I left my house a little before 5 am for a run, I was shocked that anyone saw me. I asked him if he had seen me; he said no. I guess he was just hypothesizing.

I told him that I ran 5.5 miles. He seems shocked, impressed, and maybe a little jealous.

And he said, "Good for you!" I wish that I could figure out a way to convey the tone of voice. He was kind--not malicious--not sarcastic. Maybe just a little enthusiastic.

And maybe--to my ears--a little condescending. Those three words were like tiny little pats on the top of my head.

How cute! You ran 5.5 miles. Isn't that darling? Can you do a cartwheel? Does your mom leave you home alone?

Do men hear this? I doubt it. I will not move into a feminist tirade. I'm taking another route here.

I am a little saddened that running a mere 5.5 miles is so applauded. Why is running such a short distance seen as amazing? Why do people believe that they can't do it? So many excuses.

I'm not fast, but I chase improvement.

I've been to many races. Runners come in all shapes and sizes and carry their own motivation.

I believe that with few exception most everyone can run, but that most chose not to. By ascribing some sort of Herculean effort to a five mile run, people err.

Five miles isn't hard. I should have run more today. Running the five miles was SO MUCH easier than getting out of bed at 4:30 am. That is what takes the Herculean effort.

Good for me!