I Dislike Labels, but I’m Claiming Some—Why?
I’ve never liked labels, especially not for people.
For myself or for others.
Labels prevent us from seeing individuals.
In my twenties when I first registered to vote (Not because I was a slacker, but because my strict menno upbringing didn’t allow women to vote*) I registered as a republican because that’s what my husband and most of my friends were.
I soon realized that carrying that label meant people thought I fit in a certain box… which I didn’t. I’d try to explain that only my one foot was in that box, but having a political label meant I was constantly having to unbox myself.
The minute I realized one could register as an independent… I promptly marched myself to wherever I marched to (or maybe I mailed something, I forget) and I became a proud card-carrying independent.
Freedom!
Labels annoy me enough that I’ve written about them a few times. They can be limiting and can mean different things to different people, so I prefer to say no to labels and yes to people. And labels do not tell the whole story, whether that be concerning people or food.
And yet …
Because nothing is ever totally one thing or another.
Don’t worry, I’m not going to start putting labels on you… other than my dear readers. But as I was trying to set some overall goals for this year, I wondered if it might not hurt to claim a few labels for myself. It could help me have a truer picture who I am and what I want to do. It could help narrow the choices I make each day.
Here goes… claiming the first of a few labels for myself.
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I’m a runner.
For years, I wouldn’t call myself that. I didn’t feel like a real runner. I felt like an impostor. Yes, I ran a few times a week. And did races regularly. And had the drawer full of assorted running clothes and paraphernalia.
But runners were athletes. People who ran during any weather. Real runners liked running every second they were out there. They didn’t pant like I did. Runners never sabotaged a long run by eating or drinking too much the night before. Real runners never skipped a planned run. Or quit after a mile.
I didn’t fit the idea of a runner I had in my mind.
And therein lies the problem … it was only my mental image of a runner, not the definition of a runner.
.A runner is a person who runs … - Dictionary.com
.I run … so therefore I am a runner.
.And there’s more to the definition …
Runner: a person who runs, esp. in a specified way …
.In a specified way? Yes, I do that. I run in a specific-Janet way … no one else runs just like me. (especially true post-accident)
The Janet-specific way means warming up with a 10-minute walk before I run, so that I don’t get an attack of exercise-induced asthma. It means alternating 4 minutes of running with 1 minute of walking to lessen the impact on my body. It means always needing tissues, but always forgetting them. (no need for details on how I solve that dilemma)
I slowly changed my mental image of a runner from a non-sweaty-non-panting-super-discplined-perfect-runner into a person who runs. I’ve always enjoyed running, but not feeling like I have to fit a perfect image of a runner allows me to enjoy it even more, because I can do it in whatever way works for me.
I am a runner.
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If you run (1 mile a week or 50 miles a week) … do you find it hard to call yourself a runner? Why or why not?
What’s your take on labels? Could certain ones help us set goals that we might stick to past February?
*While not many men vote, they are allowed to… and even encouraged to at times, especially if the issue at hand concerns their monetary interests.

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