There sure are a lot of running experts, aren't there? Your favorite magazines, Web sites and maybe even your neighbor offer anything and everything you need to know about tempo training, 5K race strategy and the nutritional content of Doritos (negligible, by the way - very unfortunate) all with the simple goal of making you better. It is a very noble cause.

The truth, however, is that while some runners delight in trying the latest gut-busting training tips or fanatically stalk the local grocery store for almond butter, I don't usually find long-term success with running advice. Typically, I try suggestions once, maybe twice, adopt a few, modify a couple, but usually contently slink back to my normal routine.

It's not that I doubt the veracity of the advice or the wisdom of the source. The reasons are much more basic than that.

The first reason has to do with my comfort zone - frankly, I'll only endure so much pain. The second has to do with priorities: as much as I love training and want to get better, sometimes other things are simply more important than a two-a-day workout.

These priorities include family, work and, admittedly sometimes, sitting in a Lazy Boy with a Sam Adams and a bag of Doritos (which, if you didn't already know, has negligible nutritional value. But at least carbs are back in vogue so the Sam is guilt-free enjoyment).

But the final and most prominent reason I don't always find success with expert tips is this: getting better is not the sole source of my running passion. As I read about all the things I could do to get better, stronger, slimmer or faster, I also know that sometimes I don't run to get better; I run just to run. And I bet that sounds familiar.

We run because running has become part of who we are. It is not just something we do like reading mystery novels or joining the PTA. We are runners. Not just people who run. And as a runner, my life has become richer because of things that have little to do with the speed at which my legs churn.

I have found richness in very usual places (a marathon finish line) and very unusual places (listening to stories about how others got to the marathon finish line). But much of it did not come from a book or a magazine or a running clinic. Instead it simply came because I let running into my life.

I've used running to enjoy moments, to relive moments and to teach moments. I cannot claim to be an expert - I've never won a race or made the cover of a running magazine. I also have a full-time job (that doesn't require tempo runs or water stops), which makes me like most of you. But running has broadened my life. Here's how:

o I've shared my running goals with my children and taught them about perseverance.

o I've run through a Michigan winter and taught myself that I am more dedicated than I ever thought I could be.

o I've introduced myself to other runners; runners who have beaten me and runners who I have beaten, and learned what great people they all are.

o I've purchased running shoes at the mall and at the running specialty store and have learned that you get what you pay for. o I've kept my old marathon race numbers and learned that memories are strong, pain fades and joy endures. o I've run in eight different counties and have learned that running is a common bond, even when the language isn't. o I've learned that if you pass someone in the last 100 yards of a race you really should turn around and tell them "good race" because that's just the right thing to do.

o I've told stories and relived experiences and have heard better stories in return. And I am better; a better runner, a better person, and have better friends because of it.

And all that just because I chose to run. Huh, who'd thought that initially wanting just to be faster and stronger would actually lead to so much more?

Greg Janicki can be reached at runrun262@hotmail.com.