"Runaholic" Scoop Skupien - an improv comic, stage and TV writer - traces his addiction back 30 years to when his high school cross-country team trained in Ironwood. The story below comes from Chapter 6 of his book, "Wired to Run: The Runaholics Anonymous Guide to Living with a Running Addiction," published by Andrews McMeel in Spring 2006.

As a runaholic, you are constantly looking to challenge yourself, to push yourself to the absolute limits of human endurance, to kill yourself without actually dying. So naturally, you want to run the Sahara Marathon. What better place than the largest desert in the world to run 145 miles over seven days?

Let's check those running conditions, shall we?

Sandstorms.

No water - it's a desert, remember?

Hot and sunny during the day - see above.

Freezing cold at night - another part of the joy that is the desert experience.

Now fork over $2,000 for the privilege. Ridiculous. So why in the world do runners flock to the Sahara Marathon?

Because the sort of behavior described above is the essence of runaholism. Once afflicted with this disease, the normal runner will begin to feel that he needs to "go the distance" each time he goes for a run.

Of course, the distance gets farther and farther each run, since the runaholic continually builds his tolerance with each step. Once caught in this spiraling behavior of addiction, racing across the desert becomes a logical experience.

In fact, a few years ago, one Sahara Marathon racer - an Italian police officer who ran marathons six days a week to train for the event - strayed 250 miles off the windblown course and was lost for 14 days. To survive, he sucked the blood out of bats. Of course, that was after he gave up, became suicidal and tried to slit his wrists, but couldn't bleed because he was so dehydrated. Sounds like a terrific way to spend your time and money, don't you think?

If you even hesitated before saying "No," you more than likely suffer from runaholism.

But like a good runaholic, what did our Italian friend do? That's right, he came back to finish the Sahara Marathon the next six years in a row. I guess once you acquire a taste for bat blood, it never leaves you.

In Chapter 1, we discussed the reasons why people become addicted to running. Now let's look at how that addiction manifests itself in the form of ridiculously addictive and obsessive behaviors. Like running 145 miles in the desert, for instance. Or running every single day since 1967, like Bob Ray of Baltimore, Md., has.

These behaviors come in flavors as varied as the individuals who display them. If it's true that we're all a little bit crazy in our own way, then runners take that idea and stretch it for miles - all in public view. With this in mind, Runaholics Anonymous offers the following contentious idea: spandex should not be made in extra-large.

You see, we sometimes forget that while we're out there doing our thing, people can see us. Sometimes we're dripping with sweat, our faces are all red, or we have gunk around the mouth and nose areas. Other times we're bloody, crusted over with ice or about to pass out. Once in a while, we actually look good, although it's either dark outside or no one else is around to notice.

No matter, the true runaholic doesn't run to score fashion points. In fact, the more hardcore the runaholic, the more antisocial the behavior; be it blowing your nose into the air or a shirt, going to the bathroom on the side of the road, or running in business attire during a workday break. These are all things I've seen and done hundreds of times, and as a longtime runner barely take notice of any more.

The Six Types of Runaholics

RA's research (pre-lawsuit) and experience has led to a straightforward conclusion: these ridiculous behaviors appear based in the reasons why the runaholic began running in the first place.

To use our six types, we have the Obsessive-Compulsive Runner, who must run every day and will log every muscle twitch, cramp and side-of- the-road bathroom break.

There's also the Zen Runner, who runs to meditate and would rather make up a wild story than be forced to go running with someone else, or while traveling would rather run laps around the inside of a hotel than deal with disruptions car traffic causes.

The Lifestyle-Changer will become so engrossed in her new, healthy habit that she may feel the urge to run every time she thinks about smoking, even if that happens to be two or three times a day.

The Fitness Freak will run as far as he possibly can at every chance he gets, even while injured.

The black sheep of the Fitness Freak family, Appearance-Improvers or Oprah Runners -obsessed with the perfect body image - will run in order to feel a sense of control over their bodies, which running gives them. Unfortunately, it may fuel a hunger more insatiable than they can imagine, like running 10 miles on a day when their caloric intake is 0.03: essentially, water and half a carrot. This hunger - to have the best body, to be the lithest mammal on the planet, to be so skinny their eyes pop out of their heads - can lead directly to runaholism.

Then, at the end of the spectrum, there's the Extreme Runner, who is in a class by himself. This is the type whose desire to face challenges is so strong, he'll push himself so far that he just might die in the process.

Now we're going to take a close look at all these addictive and obsessive behaviors. If RA's experience is clue, you'll see a little bit of yourself in all of them.

The Obsessive-Compulsive Runner

It shouldn't come as a surprise that a runaholic shares traits with a person who suffers from an obsessive-compulsive disorder. Let's be honest, every one of us thinks about, or worries about, things in life. In some cases, this behavior helps us stay alive.

To use an example that's happened to us all: you're out for a run, when suddenly, you're forced to run down the side of a busy road where you have approximately six inches of space between cars whizzing past at 70 mph and a steep embankment that leads down to a muddy creek.

Of course you're going to worry, it's pure survival! But, in other cases, the behavior is simply repetitive. Like when I check a lock three or four times before I go for my run. There's a difference. These types of obsessive thoughts cross over from being a healthy aspect to problematic behavior when they start to interfere with a person's daily life. The thoughts can become ever-present and disrupt normal routines.

A great example of obsessive-compulsive running was given by James Carville in an interview with Runner's World magazine. Carville was talking about how he needs to run every day and how he makes that known to everyone up front; therefore, it becomes an accepted fact to the people he's working with on campaigns. Indeed, Carville may be right in the middle of a meeting, then get up, silently walk out of the room and go for a run. The reaction? "Oh, he always does that."

Can you believe? I'd like to be able to do that, just get up and go. Wouldn't you? But I've noticed we live in such competitive times that whenever I get up for a drink of water while I'm in meetings at work, someone usually takes my chair. If I dared to go all the way to the bathroom, someone else would steal my job. If I went for a full-fledged run, someone would probably assume my entire identity. To that I say, "Go ahead sucker, I've already squeezed every last bit of fun out of this identity. Good luck!"

Besides, the theft of my identity would free me to become who I really want to be: Willie Nelson.

But seriously, the obsessiveness involved with running can sneak up on you like a crush on your teacher. We all know what that's like: one second you're listening to someone tell you what the capital of Chad is, the next you're dreaming about making out with them. Suddenly, you're failing fifth grade. Rinse, repeat.

Counting, universally recognized as one of the most common obsessive-compulsive traits, is associated with runaholism too. Runaholics are constantly timing themselves. Minutes, even seconds, become the details of life. One example is my brother-in-law, Rick, who would not allow any rounding-up while he and I were going through his running logs and totaling the time he spent training for his first marathon. It was 3,328 minutes and 15 seconds, exactly.

I've also had the "pleasure" of knowing a cross-country runner who didn't miss a day of running throughout the entire four years of his high school career. This unnamed person diligently logged all his miles, then dutifully detailed the time involved and how he felt from mile to mile - for four years! No wonder he had a (nervous) breakdown while running the most important race of his senior year, which "may have" caused our team's failure to repeat as state champions.

It's the spillover into work and family life that makes the runaholic's habit a risky one. Some of us may sit in our cubicles all day long like a good boy or girl, but we're not working; we're planning our running schedule on a spreadsheet, tracking our mileage, Googling new training methods, searching for races, comparing our times to others, checking out the latest gear, and a whole slew of other actions that have nothing to do with work and everything to do with running.

Or the runaholic's family may begin to notice that he is constantly late for family events, because while everyone was getting ready he was still out running. Sometimes when I'm with Rick, there's an unspoken race after our run - or separate runs - to see who can get out of the shower, throw on clothes, and get to the car first so the other guy gets blamed for the inevitable lateness of the entire family.

This sort of latent competitiveness also courses throughout the runaholic's blood, mostly undetectable to the sufferer, as he even finds himself racing against others to places like the bathroom, the closet or water cooler. The runaholic may even realize these behaviors have taken control of his life, that running has become too important, but he doesn't care. Because he or she firmly believes that running is just a healthy form of exercise.

Yes it is, but only when practiced in moderation.

Because, before you realize it, running can become a ritual. Like checking to make sure the door is really locked all the way, 100 percent, with no chance of slippage or anything funky like that - even staring sideways into the keyhole to make sure.

Running can easily become a ceremony that must be performed for life to run smoothly. Then life begins to revolve around running. Worse, it can become the very reason for existence. For instance, let's take a look at Rosie Swale-Pope, a woman who is totally driven to run.

Rosie, 57, is running around the world. What a challenge - she's running around the world, by herself, with no support crew! And 57 is not the age most of us envision when we think about brave souls lighting out for the long one, eh? Moreover, she didn't even start running until she was 48.

Must be crazy, right? Wrongaholic.

Rosie's got it down. She nailed the spirituality and adventurousness of running on the head when she said, "Running can take you to places that don't exist if you travel in any other way."

She ought to know, she's taking a tough route - across Europe, through Russia, Alaska and Canada - in order to stay running on land as much as possible. That seems to be the easiest way to do it, since the last time I tried to run on water it didn't work so well. My wife tried to tell me it wasn't going to work, but she's not a runner, so for the first time in my life I didn't listen to her.

When I first found out about Rosie, she was running through the cold and snow of Siberia in March, camping next to roads as she made her way alone across massive Russia.

Rosie's a trusting soul, and it seems to bring good vibes back her way, as she's had many a donated meal on her quest so far. These seemingly-random acts of generosity touch on the universal public image of runners: most people think we're crazy. But deep down, they know we are crazy in a good way, even though they can't understand why we do what we do. They're prone to liking us, even while shaking their heads and dismissing our lifestyle altogether, which is fine.

Based on Rosie's adventure and conversations with other runners, I've come to the conclusion that almost all runaholics have some sort of dream run. We all have plans to do something on a grand scale, just like Rosie. My personal quest is to run from the southern tip of Texas through Mexico and Central America to the eastern tip of Panama. I'm sure you too have had daydreams about running - maybe to Grandma's house, across the country, or even around the world!

RA strongly supports everyone's dreams. In moderation, of course. But no matter where your quest leads, remember, you are not alone. Even if you're not a current member of RA because you're camping in Siberia while running around the globe, you are still not alone. Remember, there are 11 million of us out there, all waging the same battle against ourselves and gravity in our own way.

The Zen Runner

Some people run to experience a state of zen - to clear their heads, to escape life, or to procure a runner's high. Personally, I've been a Zen Runner ever since I quit running races when I was 19. I've often said that running is the one thing that has kept me somewhat sane; subjecting the experience to a formal race only kills the meditative qualities.

Many find it necessary to run because it burns that extra energy we always seem to have. It also gives us time alone to think or just mentally chill out. This is impossible to do in a race, which is why I no longer run them. Things like wearing bibs, running in big crowds pushing each other around in order to cut a few seconds from their time, and running until you puke just aren't my thing anymore, not to say that there's anything wrong with them.

As a matter of fact, my parents ran 10K races for decades and only stopped recently because of scheduling conflicts with their AARP meetings. They were so into it that an aunt took 40 or 50 of the hundreds of race t-shirts they own without them noticing and made a quilt out of them.

This leads to the idea that runaholism may be inherited, like alcoholism, and may even spread through extended families. My extended family is now filled with runaholics.

The most recent convert is my sister-in-law, Brenda. It's great to watch her get more and more into running. After all, research sponsored in part by RA, but conducted by a third party, has found girls look a lot better in short-shorts than guys do.

Anyway, one day while Brenda was visiting, she proudly told me she had run five miles for the first time. She was so happy I wanted to go for a run myself, even though I had stitches in my foot.

It's sad that I was so proud of myself later on, when I told my wife how I didn't succumb to the urge to go running. She wasn't so impressed. "You've got ten stitches in your foot," Barbi told me. "Don't act like you accomplished anything."

Now you see how I keep it real.

Brenda's take is that running brings her to a "state of subconscious absence." She can go zone-out where no one can reach her. That's a big thing for a Gadget Addict (see Chapter 7). When she goes out running, there's no cell phone, no e-mail, no kids, no nuthin'. No wonder she loves it so much.

Don't get me wrong, she loves her kids. At least that's what her lawyer keeps telling her to say.

The point is when Brenda goes running, she's looking for an altered state. That's the same thing as meditating. If you don't believe me when I say running is one of the quickest ways to reach an altered state, go outside and sprint around the block; you'll see what I mean.

Some runners aren't going for the zen aspect as much as they're looking for a good buzz. Yet again, we encounter the runner's high. Carville wasn't afraid to admit his addiction to Runner's World when he referred to his need to run as "a chemical thing."

Carville is such a runaholic, he even runs in parking garages. He's got a phobia of being hit by a car while running, and since he travels so much, he doesn't want to waste too much time looking for what he calls "perfect running areas." So if he's not running in the parking garage, where there are a lot of cars, you can probably find him running laps around the atrium of the hotel he's staying in.

Now that's both ridiculously-addictive and obsessive running behavior all rolled up into one neat little package. Not only does this runaholic feel compelled to run, he's also obsessed with safety. I'm sure that Carville wears so much reflective clothing he actually blinds the drivers he's hoping to safeguard himself against. Again, we see the ramifications of too much of a good thing.

The Lifestyle-Changer

Remember when Rocky went out for his predawn run in his old-school grey sweatsuit and Chuck Taylor high tops? He really got pumped up with adrenaline, didn't he? He outran all those kids who started to run along with him, then flew up the steps of the Philadelphia Museum of Art in a triumphant display of ... well, running.

He actually hadn't accomplished anything yet, but we still reveled along with Rocky in his moment of glory. Why? Because his run symbolized the enormous lifestyle change that his shot at the title entailed.

Nothing catches the symbolism of the American dreams of advancement, accomplishment and change as well as running. In some ways, the Lifestyle-Changer is like Rocky outrunning all those kids; sprinting away from the pack of old behaviors, old baggage and an old lifestyle.

Many Lifestyle-Changers who have recently begun running tell me they feel "privileged" to be a runner. They should feel privileged, especially those who have quit smoking, have quit drinking, or have reduced time spent lying around on the couch. It takes a lot to get motivated once you get past a certain age.

Lifestyle-Changers tend to use running as replacement behavior: out with the bad habit, in with the good. Simply put, starting to run is probably the easiest and best way to change your life. You can replace your bad habit with running by simply going out the door and running around the block. It's that easy. And everyone's doing it too!

Not only do runners feel privileged, we are also proud because we know we can get ourselves wherever we need to go with our own two feet. We're both independent and good for the environment. And despite the American trend toward chubbiness, we are fit as fiddles. And you know how fit fiddles are.

What's not to be proud of? Cue the fiddle music: everybody dance! My sister-in-law, Brenda, is great example of the Lifestyle-Changer. Since she's gone through her change, I have caught her running twice in one day more than once, and each time she responded, "If I didn't go out for another run, I would have smoked a cigarette."

A smoker dies. A runaholic is born. It's a natural cycle.

The Appearance Improver, or Oprah Runner

Beside Oprah herself, the most famous Appearance-Improver has to be old pasty thighs, President Clinton. We've all seen the footage of when he went for a run in his short-shorts, then stopped at a McDonald's. Running afforded him the ability to eat whatever he wanted while still staying fit and attractive enough to ... well, you know the rest of the story. Maybe you're like me and need look no further than your own family to find an example of the Oprah Runner. When we were growing up, my brother and some of his friends used to run almost a mile to a place that served ice cream sundaes. Back in 1975, a mile was a long way! We all thought they deserved two or three sundaes and maybe a parade too.

When a neighbor, Sylvia, found out about all this running mumbo- jumbo, she consulted the numerous Elvis shrines in her house, then began running all the way down the street. When she finished, she would celebrate with a pack of cigarettes.

In both cases, people used running as a means to look good and feel better, while continuing to practice bad habits: a trademark behavior for the Oprah Runner.

And who can forget Martin Lawrence's jog in 100-degree heat a few years ago, wearing several layers of heavy clothing? Apparently, he was trying to lose weight for the movie "Big Momma's House." It's unfortunate none of his highly-paid handlers ever told him all he was doing was dehydrating himself, which I suppose technically can count as "weight loss." However, as soon as the paramedics scraped him off the sidewalk and hydrated him, all that hard-earned loss was gone.

Lawrence obviously isn't a runner, or he would have known better. But he does qualify for an honorable mention as a runaholic, because his body temperature hit an astounding 107 degrees before he faded into a coma for three days. Of course, a coma can help you trim down too. But a word to the wise: if you're going to try this method to lose weight for the prom or your wedding, give yourself at least a week to get out of the hospital and decrease the foaming at your mouth, as the pictures will turn out better that way.

Again, kudos to Lawrence for his commitment. Anybody willing to subject himself to so much pain in order to look good for the camera can definitely call himself a runaholic. Not necessarily a smart one, but one of us nonetheless.

Kings of the Road

I've recently noticed that runners are a territorial bunch. Once they claim a route as theirs, you might as well steer clear. My old high school cross-country team became so territorial that we used to punish cars that got in our way. Heaven couldn't help if you weren't aware that a pack of healthy-yet-rabid teenagers was approaching the crosswalk as you pulled your car up to the light or sign.

If you didn't give us enough space, or we didn't like your attitude when you stopped, 15 to 20 of us would continue and run right over your car hood. This happened at least once a week for the three years I was on the team. It was almost a tradition. Part of the psychology involved is a sense of ownership: this was our route.

We are runners, hear us roar! Yeah, right. A bunch of skinny people wearing clothes that wick sweat away from their bodies as quickly as possible; how frightening.

That said, the territorial aspect of running once led me to follow the Indiana University basketball team on my mountain bike. It was fall 1987 and the team was getting ready for the season. They were the defending NCAA champions, coached by a legend, Bobby Knight.

When I saw them, I immediately knew who they were. A pack of tall young men were out running - or lumbering "gracefully" in a giraffe-like way - on my route. How dare they run on my sacred ground! To run here meant you were part of my tribe, or more likely you were a trespasser. I decided to follow them.

When the team reached a street with a long, steep hill, they suddenly stopped. I hit my brakes and hung back behind some trees. Something was amiss. "These guys are afraid of the hill," I said. "C'mon! Some of you guys are gonna make millions in pro basketball; run the hill!"

Of course, they couldn't hear me, which also meant that they wouldn't kill me.

A college basketball team had jogged out of their gymnasium, down the street and around a corner, then stopped inexplicably at the base of a long hill. Being a runner, I instinctively knew that someone should have bent down to tie his shoelace, whether he needed to or not. Because if no one needed to tie his shoe, then why did every single guy stop running at the same time? Because they were cutting their run, that's why.

"Tie your shoes, guys," I thought to myself. I also thought these young men were idiots, they were so easily busted - right around the corner from the gym! In fact, all 15 or so of these guys should have either tied their shoes, acted like they were stretching their calves, or pretended like someone had had a heart attack. Sometimes you need to get creative. Instead they all stood there, looking around and nervous, like they were waiting for something or were about to get caught doing something wrong. Master thieves they were not.

Suddenly, a bus pulled up and they all hopped on. I couldn't believe it. Not only were they cutting their run, but instead of adhering to the time- honored running tradition of using the obscurity of backyards and dense bushes, they were using public transportation! Once I was sure the bus was safely out of distance, I yelled, "Wimps!"

I continued to follow. The bus roared up the hill and then down the street. About two miles later, the red-and-white bus - the same colors the team inside was wearing - pulled to a stop and the team jumped off. What did they do? They started jogging again, of course. They jogged the half-mile back to the gym, completely rested, happy and unaware they'd been followed.

I sat outside the gym for at least 40 minutes, wondering if I should go in and tell General Robert Montgomery Knight that his defending NCAA champions just rode a bus instead of going out for their run.