并非热爱跑步的人才能成为奔跑者

The first time I ran, like really ran, was during middle school gym class. It took me 11 minutes and 47 seconds to finish a mile. I've been running ever since.
我第一次跑步，那种真正的跑步，是在中学体育课的时候。我花了11分47秒跑完了1英里。自那以后，我一直在跑步。

Running is the kind of thing where you put in the time and expect to see results, and let me be the first to tell you: It is supremely discouraging when you don't. It's discouraging when you run a five-mile race with your entire family and come in a solid 15 minutes behind everyone else, and it's discouraging when that time is no faster or slower than your five-mile time five years ago.
跑步是一种你会投入时间并期待成效的运动。让我做第一个告诉你这个的人：你没有做到的时候，你会刚到非常沮丧。当你和所有家人一起来一场5英里赛跑却落后了每个人15分钟的时候，是十分让人沮丧的；当你跑完5英里的时间并没有比5年前更快或更慢的时候，也是十分让人沮丧的。

And yet, my alarm is already set for 6 a.m. tomorrow, even though it's probably going to be rainy and definitely going to be cold and even though most of the time, I really hate running.
但是，我已经把明天的闹钟设置为早晨6点钟了，哪怕可能会下雨且一定会变冷；哪怕大多数时间，我真的讨厌跑步。

Don't ask me why. All I know is this: As much as I hate running, I love being a runner.
不要问我原因。我所知道的一切就是：我喜欢成为一名奔跑者和我讨厌跑步的程度相同。

There's some kind of camaraderie between people who spend more money each year on running shoes than on all their other shoes combined, and there's some fundamental similarity between people who can cross 10 miles without pausing.
比起购买其他所有的鞋子，每年花更多的钱买跑鞋的人们之间有着某种友谊；那些不用暂停就能跑完10英里的人们之间也有着根本的相似性。

On days that I run, I exert myself purely for exertion's sake. If you run too, you get why.
在我跑步的日子里，我只不过为了努力而努力。如果你也跑步，你会懂的。

When you're a runner, your people are the girls with hair elastics on their wrists and the boys with shorts shorter than yours. They might be better, faster or stronger than you, but you belong with them.
当你做奔跑者的时候，你的同伴会是那些手腕上有用来扎头发的橡皮筋的女孩子们以及那些穿着比你裤子还短的短裤的男孩子们。他们也许比你更好、更快或者更强壮，但你和他们是一起的。

It took me almost 10 years of plodding along at an 11-minute mile before I realized that I could call myself a runner, no matter how slow I go or how many races I lose.
我花了将近10年时间才做到在11分钟内跑完1英里，后来我才意识到，我可以称自己为一名奔跑者，无论我跑得多慢、无论我输掉了几场比赛。

I've laced up my shoes at least once a week since the first day I stepped foot on a track in middle school. Some weeks it's every day, some weeks it's not. Some days, I'll barely go more than a mile, and some days, I'll walk more than I jog. I may not have medals, but I have fresh air, time alone, and creaky knees and tight quads.
自从我在中学踏上跑道的第一天起，我至少每周会束紧鞋带跑一次步。有些时候我那周的每天都绑紧鞋带去跑步，有些时候不是。有些日子里，我很少跑超过1英里的距离；有些日子里，我散步的次数会比慢跑多。我可能没有奖章，但是我能呼吸新鲜空气、拥有独处的时间并有吱吱作响的膝盖和结实的股四头肌。

For me, that's enough. I run, so I am a runner.
对我来说，那就足够了。我跑步，所以我是一名奔跑者。