The runner's tolerance

Most running comedy can be lumped into a few categories:

* Boy, you and your body sure do gross things when you run!

* Boy, I sure hear "You run? Why would you do such a thing?" an awful lot from nonrunners.

* Boy, I sure make my friends and family jump through a lot of hoops to accommodate my gross/weird hobby! (see the previous two bullet points)

I experience the first point, sadly, very often (and very publicly ... sorry if I've overshared with you). And I've inflicted the second and third – the former, in the past; the latter, more recently — on others.

In the past week, one of those roles got to be reversed, twice. Is it karma repaying me, or is it an opportunity to show off how tolerant I am of other runners? You be the judge. Probably depending on whether my running has inconvenienced you.

Dusty, my little buddy, has almost nothing to do with running, but he's such a handsome guy that I wanted to show him off!

Two Mondays ago, co-worker and cat-sitter Emily stopped by to meet her feline charge. I told her that anytime after 7:30 p.m. was fine, and that she could just text when she was en route — there was no need to have our secretaries book appointments.

Around 7 that night, I received a text, which I'm paraphrasing because this morning's six-miler is sinking in, causing me to sink into the couch far from my phone: "I'm heading out for a run around Gray's Lake, and then I'll be over. Sorry if I'm stinky."

Even though I pride myself on my keen sense of smell, I was unconcerned about the idea of a sweaty guest. It's not like I haven't pulled a similar stunt, and without warning.

And come to think of it, if I didn't notice anything amiss during Emily's post-run visit, does that mean I'm not smellable from miles away after a run? Let us hope.

Then came yesterday, when blog guest star extraordinaire Ashlee flexed her new running muscles (figuratively and literally, though I wasn't witness to any literal flexing).

We were planning our Restaurant Week excursion, and Ashlee asked that we make reservations for 8 p.m. to allow for her gym visit. Because I suspected — correctly — that it was Color Run training and not swimming or ballroom dancing, I agreed (kidding! I support cross training!).

But at 7 p.m., the phone rang: Ashlee had worked out and cleaned up and was ready to enjoy Splash Seafood Bar & Grill a little earlier than anticipated. Delay dinner to allow for running? No problem. Move dinner back up? Even less of a problem.

I'd like to think I would've been just as tolerant even before I was running ... after all, my nonrunning friends seem to have been. But at least now I know I'm no hypocrite in this area of life!