Companionship of the Long Distance Runners

What happens when a happy couple develops a mutual addiction to running?

Running is like smoking marijuana. Some will do it once or twice and then become politicians, and others will try it, get hooked, and then do it for the rest of their lives. My wife and I are altogether hooked.

This year, Anne and I spent more than 187 hours training for the Labour Day weekend 20th annual Marathon de Montréal. It took almost five hours to complete the 42.2-kilometre run, but we did it. To get in shape for it, we ran 1,564 kilometres together, burned more than 100,000 calories, and went through four pairs of rather expensive running shoes each. And we still talk to each other.

Make no mistake, I am not bragging. In my class (aged 45 to 49), I finished well at the back of the pack, 208th out of 230. Of the 1,660 men running that day, 1,443 crossed the finish line before I did (marathons, like many sports, are all about numbers). The first-place winner, Choge Julius Kirwa, from Kenya, could have run the marathon twice and still finish before I did.

This was my second marathon and Anne's third. I ran my first one earlier this year in Ottawa. Our running habit – we don’t call it jogging anymore – started innocently enough, as these things do. You run 5K here, you run 5K there – but soon you realize that you must get four runs in each week or you just don't feel right. It's all about the runner's high (yes, it’s real). Even a brief 30-minute run takes the edge off a stressful day and leaves you feeling more alive. It’s not long before you find yourself craving your next hit.

For a while, you’re just a casual runner. You think to yourself, "I could quit anytime." Then you buy a few books. This is the first sign of addiction.

One of my first was Running Start to Finish, by Canada's own running god, John Stanton, founder of the Running Room. I do not belong to the Running Room – their patrons always remind me of cult members, a bit too thin and earnest – but kudos to Mr. Stanton, O.C., for inspiring me and so many others in an age of inertia and excessive calorie intake.

But I knew I was really in trouble when Anne subscribed to not one but three running magazines, including the very informative Canadian Running (my favourite magazine ever remains the LCBO's Food & Drink). Then, on a whim, I shelled out almost $500 for a Garmin 405, a GPS sports watch that tracks my heart rate, speed, and distance. I use it to confirm that my heart rate jumps significantly when I buy overpriced (but useful) gadgets.

Before my filthy habit developed, I would spend a mere $40 on a new pair of sneakers. Now I burn through $160 on high-tech running shoes every four months. We have running pants (long and short), running jackets (in winter the inside ices over as my sweat freezes), a growing collection of running shirts (you get another one every time you complete a race), a dozen books on running, and a rack of medals from 10K, 21K, and 42K events. Clearly, we are hopelessly addicted.

Addicts often try to get their friends hooked, so as to justify their lifestyle. My wife and I started giving our old running magazines to our friends, and now my good buddy Marc has signed up for his first 10K. Here we see the social contagion theory of lifestyle at work. I have gone from a casual user to an addict to a full-blown pusher. I recently bought my parents a copy of Stanton's book Walking – it’s a well established fact that walking for exercise is a gateway drug. I have no shame.

Now Anne and I fantasize about winning the lottery – not to retire to a life of wine and roses, but to travel to exotic destinations and run marathons. Hawaii has one. So does Paris. I know a lawyer who travels all over the world to participate in marathons (I would hate him, but he does good work at reduced rates for people who otherwise could not afford justice).

I could tell you more about what running does for a marriage (good things), for your sex life (great things), for your wife's body (awesome things), and for your general wellbeing. But these stories will have to wait for my next marathon.

Now where did I put my stash (of running magazines ...)?

Dr. Strangelove also documented his latest marathon adventures in a three-part video: