Originally published in the March 29 issue of The Mountain-Ear.

Ruth Stodghill, Peak to Peak.

“Why do you run so much?”

This is probably the question I hear most often regarding my running obsession. Folks need a sane explanation for why I do something as crazy as run thirty-five miles a week. There are some sane explanations I could give: so I can be a 40 year-old woman with a slowing metabolism and still eat like a farmhand every once in a while. So I can decompress and re-center after a rough day at work. So I can get outside and enjoy some fresh air.

These aren’t the REAL truths, however, and sorry to disappoint, folks, but the REAL truth isn’t very pretty. I run because I am a running zombie.

The running zombie virus is airborne; like the common cold, it can be caught when otherwise healthy individuals come in contact with someone with an active infection. This often happens at races, where there is a high concentration of running zombies mingling with those who are as of yet, unaffected by the virus. Running zombies are incredibly friendly - they will strike up a conversation with you regarding the cuteness of your running shorts, or the relative pros and cons of Gatorade as an electrolyte replacement drink, or oh-my-goodness-where-DID-you- get-those-shoes? The friendly banter is just an excuse for the virus to spread from the running zombie to the unsuspecting victim, and the next thing you know - WHAM! You are now a running zombie.

Ways to determine if someone is infected with the running zombie virus: 1) The individual will skip the pie and stuffing during the holiday season, claiming to be “in training” for an upcoming race, 2) The individual will only ask for running shoes, compression socks, hydration packs, KT tape, or other running paraphernalia for Christmas, 3) The individual will make comments such as “That was fun! Let’s do it again!” after doing something horrible, such as running outside in the woods for days on end.

I knew I was infected when I completed my first half marathon. No healthy person would call distance running fun, but I did. I felt strangely compelled to register for more races. My fevered brain anticipates running each day; I thirst for an open road and time to explore for miles like an uninfected person craves chocolate. I definitely caught a bad case of running zombie-itis.

What do running zombies love, even more than running? Hanging out with other running zombies. We are, in essence, highly social creatures. We often form into herds, congregating most often during the pre-dawn or post-dusk hours with one another to ‘train’ - i.e., to tramp all across the countryside. We will not be deterred by scorching heat, blasting winds, chilling rains, or freezing snows. We are numb to these pains. We will entertain ourselves, whilst running over rivers and through woods, by chatting.

We will talk about EVERYTHING: our husbands, wives, children, and parents. Our jobs, our bosses, our co-workers, our team members. Our joys, our triumphs, our sorrows, our tribulations. We will tell dirty jokes just to make everyone laugh. We will stop for a moment and cry about grandpa’s death or a friend’s divorce. We will share recipes for spicy cheesy bread. We will give advice about everything from bunions and strained achilles to marriages and the meaning of life.

Then, once or twice a month, we will take our herd and join with other herds into a mega-pod during a running zombie convention known as a “race.” Here, we will darn near kill ourselves to chop three seconds off our fastest running time, known as “setting a new PR (personal record).” But really, we use races as an excuse for mingling with others of our kind, exchanging tips for buying running shoes on the black market and comparing the calluses on our feet.

So in the end, are running zombies really so different from everyone else? No. We all need friends to spend time with, to talk to - a place that feels safe where we can share anything. For some of us, we find it with fellow running zombies. Others find it with their family, or within their church. So next time you see me and my herd slogging along some dusty country road, water bottles in hand, remember: we’re not really that different from you. Running zombies are people, too.

Ruth Stodghill has written as a freelance correspondent and columnist for The Trinidad Chronicle-News for four years. Ruth also teaches English in the remote mountain school district of Primero and English Composition and literature courses for Trinidad State Junior College. When not writing or teaching, Ruth is an avid distance runner, having competed in hundreds of races ranging from 5K’s to ultramarathons.