Well the title kind of speaks for itself on this post folks, I’m a hobby jogger. I love when people ask me if I’m a runner. Being married to the runner boy can be intimidating because my version of running is seemingly pathetic compared to his version of running. But comparison is stupid and the yard stick that I am measuring my progress on is not the same yard stick that Clay measures his on.

Running has a different meaning and serves a different purpose for me then it does for Clay. When I lace up my kicks and put on my gangster rap playlist I don’t go out with the intention of seeing how fast or how far I can run. Today I went out and ran 3.5 miles. The weather was nice, I was in grouchy mood when I got off work, and I wanted to blow off steam by getting some exercise. The first 2.5 miles I simply ran around our neighborhood, blasting my music, thinking about life, and getting some exercise. Then the last mile I stopped by home and picked up Jerry the pup.

Did you guys know that Jerry is a skinny pug that loves to run? Now when I say he loves to run I’m not saying he hobby jogs like his mom. This is a pug was trained to sprint and loves to go on runs with his dad the runner boy. So that last mile was spent straight booking it across the hood. Jerry and I ended our all out sprint session at the park right down the street from our house where we sat in the grass and enjoyed the sunshine for a bit.

Now I am obviously not going to get recruited by the bowman babes anytime soon and Jerry isn’t going to be the next Brooks Beast. Regardless we went out, ran a bit, enjoyed the weather, and gave the middle finger to heart disease. People are so obsessed with letting activities define who they are and tbh I have never really given a crap. Who gives a flying fuh if you’re a football player or singer or whatever. On Instagram that girl is defined by “hearting” macros, or the guy who does crossfit every day, the basic mom makes bread every day, that kid who does this or that or whatever, blah blah blah.

I jokingly call Clay the runner boy but if he cold turkey stopped running I literally wouldn’t care if that was what he wanted to do. Running makes Clay happy but he is in no way defined by it. There have been times in my life when I have found joy in training for competitive races and running longer distances has been pleasant. But I think that it’s okay to change as life changes. So as of now I’m a hobby jogger who finds the utmost joy in taking her pug on runs with her while she distresses and gets in her daily dose of exercise.

FOLKS THAT IS THE POINT! Get out and go for a run. Or don’t. Just find a form of exercise that you enjoy doing. Running can be so therapeutic and exercise is a way to thank our bodies for all the hard work they do day to day. You can’t expect your body to show up for you and be healthy if you don’t invest time into taking care of it. If you want to slap labels on people and categorize them, fine. I just strive to be healthy and the form of exercise that brings me joy is running. So feel free to holla if you catch me and Jerry hobby jogging around the block. Who knows maybe next week I’ll start training for a half marathon. Whatever. Things change. Life is life. Guess we will see.

I'm a Hobby Jogger