My goal in life? To run tomorrow.

K, I admit it: I am a streaker. In fact, I am an adultC)ens streaker. To be honest, I have been making

this confession to my friends and a fair number of strangers for a while now. The responses that I initially get are pretty much the same. “Huh? You are doing what?” This is followed by a general look of disgust. Why this response? Most people who hear “streaker” picture a nude person running around creating a certain amount of chaos and confusion. Of course, that is not what I am talking about when I say that I’m streaking (I live in an area that gets snow in the winter, for gosh sakes). After a certain amount of confusion, I clarify my statement by telling them that I am a running streaker and that I have been running, with clothes on, a minimum of one mile every day since December 16, 2011. As you will see later in this confession, that isn’t much of a streak for a serious streaker, but for me it is monumental. It is not long after the initial shock that the questions fly at me. What do you mean by “streaker”? Why are you doing it? How are you doing it?

Here are my answers.

First, let me explain what I mean, and what most runners mean, by doing a running streak. The United States Streak Running Association defines a streaker as one who runs a minimum of one mile every day with no outside assistance or aid. Records are kept solely by the runner and are accepted as honest and truthful. In other words, it is an honor system. Bad weather? So what? Sore shins? So what? Broken ankle? So what? Stomach ache? So what? Blizzard? So what? Hung over from your 68th-birthday party? So what? No excuses are allowed, entertained, or accepted.

To further understand what a streak is, | used my computer to unearth stories of running streakers. Few if any streakers are mentioned in books, so the Internet

became an important resource for me. I read about Robert “The Raven” Kraft from Miami Beach, Florida, who has been running eight miles every day on the beach for the past 37 years. There is Dr. Harvey B. Simon, who teaches at Harvard and practices medicine in Boston. His usual run is 10 miles, with a minimum of two miles. He started on October 1, 1978. The United States Streak Running Association lists a California track coach, Mark Covert, as having the longest US streak at 44 years and counting. Then there is the great UK runner, Ron Hill, who has been streaking since December 1964. Ron had a marathon best of 2:09:28. Unlike the previous examples of everyday people, Ron was world class and remains world class today, but in a different category, streaking.

You probably have a good idea by now as to what makes a running streak. It is a personal commitment by a runner of any ability to running every day and

Official U.S.A. Active Running Streak List

As Certified to the United States Running Streak Association, Inc. June 1, 2012 The Legends (40+yrs) Mark Covert 07/23/68 Lancaster, CA, Teacher/Coach, 61 Jon Sutherland 05/26/69 West Hills, CA, Writer, 61 Jim Pearson 02/16/70 Bellingham, WA, Retired, 68 Stephen W. DeBoer 06/07/71 Rochester, MN, Dietitian, 57 Jon A. Simpson 08/30/71 Memphis, TN, Dentist, 74 Alex T. Galbraith 12/22/71 Houston, TX, Attorney, 61

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The Grand Masters (35+yrs) 7. David L. Hamilton 08/14/72 Vancouver, WA, Sales, 57 8. Steven Gathje 09/25/72 South Minneapolis, MN, Actuary, 57 9. Robert R. Kraft 01/01/75 Miami Beach, FL, Songwriter, 61 10. James Behr 03/19/75 Trinity, FL, Educator, 64 11. Stephen D. Reed 06/16/76 Wiscasset, ME, Doctor, 64 11. Robert J. Zarambo 06/16/76 Whitehall, PA, Retired, 64 13. William S. Stark 09/10/76 St. Louis, MO, Professor, 64 14. Bill Anderson 09/27/76 Fort Worth, TX, Retired, 67 15. John Liepa 01/02/77 Indianola, IA, Professor, 67 * 16. Bill Robertson 02/08/77 Ashland, MA, Systems Analyst, 59 17. William J. Benton 04/23/77 Farmington Hills, Ml, Accountant, 62 * 18. Brian Casey 05/09/77 Paramus, NJ, Finance Manager, 53

a personal commitment to yourself to do whatever is necessary to maintain the streak. I myself have run through bronchial infections, asthma attacks, and sore body parts to keep my streak alive. Remember, streaking is a choice to do something good for yourself every day. Interestingly, I seem to have fewer breathing problems and running pains the more that I run. Go figure!

Getting a little—or a lot—personal

Before I go too far, let me clarify my personal situation. I ran cross-country and track in high school and college with modest results (880 personal best of 1:57.7). I lived in the Buffalo, New York, area from 1944 to 1978, where I often suffered from sinus infections and asthma-like conditions. As an adult, I ran less and less but missed it more and more. In 1978, I moved to Arizona and now live in a community called Dewey at about 5,000-feet altitude. Even when I wasn’t running consistently, I kept up my interest in running techniques and running personalities. I guess that I was living vicariously through the books and magazines that I was devouring. My favorite authors (and inspirations) include Dean Karnazes, Pam Reed, Rich Benyo, Paul Reese, Joe Henderson, John Bingham, Marshall Ulrich, Kirk Johnson, Christopher McDougall, James E. Shapiro, Chris Crowley, Henry S. Lodge, Bart Yasso, Don Kardong, Dick Beardsley, John Brant, Ray Zahab, and Matt Long, to name only a few. My favorite magazines include Runner’s World, Trail Runner, Running Times, and Marathon & Beyond (the only magazine that I currently subscribe to).

Why do I streak? I guess that when December 16, 2011, came, everything fell into place. Yes, I missed running regularly, and I missed the personal pride that came from doing something well athletically. However, the two events that pushed me over the edge and had me make this commitment to running (once again) took place on the roads near my Dewey home. In both cases, kind drivers pulled over and asked me if I was OK and if I needed help. The first was out on Highway 69, which has a rather serious crown to it. When I run the edge of this road, I run up and down the crown to minimize the stress on my knees. A woman in her 70s (at least) pulled in front of me, got out of her car, and asked: “Are you OK? I saw you staggering!” I assured her that I was fine, though by the look on her face, I don’t think that she believed me. I thanked her and ran on using a much stronger stride for at least 50 yards! Three weeks later, a similar thing took place in our neighborhood as I was running up a hill. A man probably in his 60s pulled over and asked if I needed help. He said: “I thought that you were going to pass out. Can I give you a lift?” Once again, I felt fine. So I thanked him and powered (sort of) up the hill. He stood there until I was out of sight. Later he passed me. Iam sure that he was just waiting for me to collapse.

OK, here is my question: “How bad did I have to look for these good Samaritans to stop and come back to try and help me out?” My answer to you and to myself: “T must have looked like crap!” I guess what I am saying is that on the morning of December 16, 2011, I vowed to give serious running one more chance and to stop looking like crap. I realized that speed records and age-group records were not going to happen, but why not a streak, not for a record but for personal pride?

And even more personal revelations

Another aspect can be explained by the following story. My wife, Terri, and I often run together. When we do, it is not unusual for a faster runner to zip by us. If it is a woman, Terri usually mumbles the word “bitch,” loud enough for only us to hear. If it is a guy, I usually respond by saying “bastard.” These are both terms of endearment, trust me. In fact, I have often told Terri that I would love, someday, to have someone mumble “bastard” as I sprinted by on a trail. Well, it wasn’t the “bastard” comment, but it was darn close recently when my wife was talking on the phone to her eldest son, Scott. Scott has always been a supporter of our running ways. Terri informed him that I was on a streak and had just passed 60 days. He told her to inform me that he was giving me the “one-finger salute.” I smiled and said: “Yes! It’s not ‘bastard,’ but it sure is in the ballpark!”