Long before I became a wife, mother or coach, I was a runner.

As a 12-year-old doing the first workout of my life, I connected with running. Three quarter-mile repeats on the cross-country course in my white Keds sneakers and I was hooked.

Running immediately gave something back. I felt strong and powerful. I felt free. Although I was a part of a team, I owned my running. From that first day, I understood what it meant to be a runner.

Thirty-seven years have passed. My body has changed in a multitude of ways. My PRs are distant memories. I'm at the half-century mark, yet running is still a constant in my life.

While my other roles are very much a part of who I am, I wear those labels because of my relationship to other people. To be a wife, you have to have a husband. To be a mother, you have to have a child. To be a coach, you have to have runners who'll listen.

Being a runner is still all mine, and that label still carries great meaning for me.

Other runners understand that being a runner goes deep. They know running isn't just a hobby like collecting rocks or being a jigsaw-puzzle junkie. Being a runner lies at the very core of who we are as people.

Being a runner means knowledge of the sport's basics, like knowing a marathon isn't just any ole long distance, and losing a toenail is a rite of passage.

Runners also take a certain stubborn approach to the sport. If a runner falls and scrapes the heck out of an elbow three miles into an 18-mile trail run, he or she will stop the bleeding with a wad of toilet paper and continue the run as planned.

Runners know it's impossible to explain to a non-runner why we head out the door in a driving rain to get in our run, just because. We know when we run into someone we haven't seen in a long time and they ask, "So, are you still running?" it's best to answer with a simple "yes." Trying to explain the true meaning of running, and the why we run, to a non- runner is a hopeless cause.

Then there are the less-tangible, and most-significant, things that being a runner means.

Being a runner means we embrace physical challenge in a world of adults who are focused on getting a promotion, buying a bigger house and planning for retirement. It's not that runners don't share some of these life goals, but we also strive to run that first 5K, marathon or 50- miler.

These running-related goals help us get up in the morning. Reaching the finish line enriches our lives and empowers us in other areas of life. Once I'd run a marathon, I was sure I could do anything.

Being a runner means we take time in a drive-through world to move our bodies. In addition to the physical benefits, this time helps us make sense of everything else in our lives. On a run, I've figured out what I wanted to be when I grow up, how to help my child stop sucking her thumb, how to respond to a challenging teenage child, and about a gazillion other things.

And while I've often solved the world's problems on a run, sometimes it's simply my time out during a busy day.

Being a runner means you're a member of a club. A club whose membership is not based on age, race, body type, or socioeconomic factors. Anyone is welcome in this club. All you need to join is a spirit of adventure, dedication and positive attitude. The club benefits are too numerous to mention.

Call yourself a runner and you'll feel strong and powerful. You'll feel free. You'll set goals, reach them and set new ones. You'll share running with other runners, but you'll still have something all your own that no one can take away.

Being a runner means a lot of things. Running isn't just something I do, it's who I am. I am a runner.

Ann Forshee-Crane is a wife, mother of five, Team Playmakers coach and a runner of 37 years. MR