"Are you a runner?"

I went to Subway for lunch today, as I do most Wednesdays. I eat at my desk pretty much every other day so I splurge on my $6.80 combo one day a week. For my birthday, Bri gave me a $50 gift card to Subway. I know she thought it was a lame gift, but I loved whipping that card out for two months and getting my "free" lunch.

Anyway, I was there today and I saw the FedEx guy that delivers to our office. I said a cordial hello, then took my seat in the booth in front of his. When I got up to refill my diet Coke, he asked me as I came back to the table, "Are you a runner?"

Am I? I told him yes because that was the easiest answer. I mean, I do run, but what makes someone a runner? How far do you have to go and how often to say with confidence, "Yes, I'm a runner."

I definitely took his question as a compliment. I'm wearing a skirt today, one that ends about an inch above my knees. I came across it in the guest room closet the other week. I didn't remember the skirt, and I didn't think it would fit me but guess what? It did! The FedEx guy told me I looked like a runner and since I wasn't sweaty and panting, I was flattered that he seemed to be basing his question on my body, specifically my legs, I guess.

I'm still not ready to go shorts-shopping, and I'll stick to laying out on my patio rather than at a public pool, but I'm glad to know that my efforts are paying off in a noticeable - and commentable - way.