Running has always been a selfish thing for me. I don’t mean that negatively, only that it is something I do for myself, how and when I want. My running goals are entirely my own, and I always run by myself. It’s been that way ever since I got out of the Navy, and took up running for pleasure. Running in the military is never for fun. When you’re forced to do it in formation it involves a lot of grumbling, grumpiness, and unhappy people. You can’t pick a pace or distance that’s optimal for 25 people, and because of that, my impression of group running was one of running at the wrong pace, tripping over other people, and counting the minutes til it was over. As a result, when I started running again as a civilian, I didn’t look for someone to run with. I wanted to run alone and I’ve been happy with this state of things for several years. I can run whenever I want and wherever I want. I run at whatever pace I want, and if I want to make a last minute change to my plan, no one is going to complain. There’s no one to disappoint (except, sometimes, myself), and no one to judge me (except, again, sometimes myself). I ran with others only when I ran road races, and even then I was socially alone, if not physically. And I was fine with that. I don’t know when this started feeling lonely. Sometime in the last year or so, when I would talk to people about running or post about my race training, I realized that I felt isolated as a runner. My friends are lovely, but not one of them is a runner. They’re supportive in their own way, but they don’t Get It. They don’t geek out over gels or new shoes or which race I’m doing this year, and they certainly don’t want to run 10 miles with me on a Sunday morning. I really realized that my Lone Runner life wasn’t enough for me anymore last fall when I attended a running and writing retreat in Maine. It was odd to be surrounded by women who all loved running. We talked abut training and races and they got so excited when they heard I was training for my first marathon. And I loved hearing about their goals and races. We ran together, and spoke a common language, and it was an amazing experience. At the end of the weekend, I drove home, and knew I wanted running to be something else for me. I still want my own goals and my own runs. I still enjoy running by myself, getting lost in my own head, or losing myself in music or a podcast. I just want more than that, too. I’m still running alone for the most part, mostly because my decision to stop running alone was achieved in a ‘not what I meant’ manner: I got injured and wasn’t running at all. But now I’m back and I’m ready to step outside my socially anxious comfort zone. I located a nearby running club, and joined. I haven’t attended a group run yet (summer schedules are hard), but I’m determined to put aside my fears and take a step into being a social runner. I want to share this important part of my life with someone, even if it’s only a couple of times a month. Running alone is fine, but when it becomes running lonely, it’s time to make a change.