Wednesday, February 2, 2011

Running vs. Jogging

“Running” and “jogging” technically describe the same activity. One foot in front of the other, a little bounce, faster than a walk. 

But do not call me a jogger. I am a runner. Even if I’m not running right now. Even if I’m pool-running (notice that I prefer to call it pool-running instead of aqua-jogging?). For some reason jogging implies a much more casual activity – I think fanny-pack wearing, 70s-style-hair, slightly chubby, post-run soda-drinking type of runner (or I should say jogger).

The only time it is appropriate to use “jog” in reference to this activity I love is with a soft “j” on an easy day -  i.e.  Mollie, are you running today? 
Eh, well, I’m sore from the workout so I’ll probably just do a 3-mile yog. (See what I did there? Anchorman.)

But it’s hard to put my finger on exactly what the difference is. I guess it’s a degree of seriousness and respect for the sport. (Plus personal safety – turns out terrible things happen to joggers, but nothing ever happens to runners!)

The jogger/runner difference isn’t about speed, it’s much more about style. So what defines a jogger? I’ll tell you what I think. Doing one of these things doesn’t necessarily downgrade you to a jogger, but if you do a couple then you’re in dangerous territory…

Disclaimer: Things are about to get controversial, so feel free to disagree! And let me know if you have anything to add!

You might be a “jogger” if…

You jog in place at red lights.

You wear shorts over full-length pants. True runners own and love their spandex and have nothing to hide.

Your form makes other runners, and any observing doctor or athletic trainer, cringe.

You make  shoe decisions based on color.

You wear a fuel-belt on any run less than 7 miles.

You wear a running skirt (except for SUAR who rocks her skirt).

You've never run through pain. (Ok, ok, so runners are a little bit stupid sometimes...but that's just how it is.)

You only run when it’s sunny and the temperature is between 50 and 75 degrees.

You ask other runners how long their marathon was. (True story – this happens! Here’s my PSA for the day: All marathons are 26.2 miles. Anything else is a race, but not a marathon.)

You don’t care about competition.

You run without a sports bra (women, obviously). 

You’re only in it for fitness and/or weight loss (I’m not hating on fitness, I’m just saying…), and therefore tend to quit after a month.

More than anything it’s about how you define yourself. I am a runner. Are you?