Running Rivals Alcohol as a Social Lubricant

Blame it on the biochemicals

Seventeen miles into Saturday’s muggy LSD (long, slow, distance) run, my young training buddy Janine spilled her latest secret, an especially seedy one.

“I’m sleeping with Joe,” she said. “And it’s not casual. Been going on five months.”

Joe, a popular local race organizer, is married to June, a fleet-footed 5k specialist with whom I occasionally ran Wednesday night hill repeats.

(Names have been altered to protect the players.)

“Go on,” I say.

Janine continues to unburden herself as I recall a night, months back, when June broached the topic of property division in Texas. I deduce that the marriage has been on the fritz for some time now.

My desire to hear this confession was nil, but if you run with a group long enough, you’ll learn more than you care to know about your peers. You’ll carry secrets for steady friends and casual acquaintances alike. There will be practical strangers whose names you don’t know but whose darkest personal dramas you do.

I handle such delicate discussions as would any duty-bound listener, with discretion, like a priest, therapist, or attorney.