Hello? Is it me you're looking for?

If you've run with the same person long enough, and you don't have a filter for any of your conversations, you've learned a thing or two about them. I realized several months ago that after almost 4 hours on the trail that morning, I had 4 hours of a more meaningful conversation than I would at any other point in my day with my significant other. This struck me as strange, and to some degree, completely appealing. A running partner is in many ways like sitting in a shrinks office working through the shit of everyday life. There is no judging and no need to feel like you need to tailor the conversation to make someone happy or to simply say what they want to hear. Its therapy at its finest.

Going long can also lead to some great moments in conversation. Its referred to as "D material". With in the first hour or so of a run you get all the good stuff out, which would probably be the "A material". You're still on point and your humor is sharp. You start off talking about what you've been doing, work stuff, beers that you've been drinking, you know, the important stuff. Then as the run progresses on and you become a little more worn, the conversation turns a little to why you only like 5 people and everyone else that would come to your funeral would be told they were shitty people and you didnt really like then via a prewritten message. Then a little further down the trail you see a discarded mattress that begs to have a story told about it that includes the pair of little boy's Batman underwear that were seen about ten yards from the mattress. A bit later you're sure you will achieve financial independence with the jaw breaker ball gag you've just conceptualized. I mean really? Don't you just have a hankering for some candy amidst the throws of rough sex? Was the music better with heroin? Did that stripper really have to dance to Lightning Crashes? She apparently wanted to, so I made her cry and walk off stage. These are the miles where "D material" is at it's finest and memories are made.

But by mile 5 million, you can no longer make coherent sentences. You rely on ingrained memories. Singing Hello by Lionel Ritchie to aid station volunteers will sure make their day, even though you can't tell them that you need coffee and food stat! Then words don't even come out, just sounds... and you laugh at those sounds. When you can muster up words, you say things like, "Great job! Keep it up!" to someone along the course who isn't running and is just walking to their mail box to get the mail.

I guess it takes just the right type of mentally disturbed idiot to enjoy this, and I'm glad to say I have a funny farm of friends to carry on with.