Who am I?

I'm still building my running base, so my runs are 7 min on, 7 min walk, 3 x each, 3 days a week.

Today I was grabbing a pre-run snack at the counter, when Bill walked in and said, "Wow, you look like a runner!" Doesn't that sound nice?

But what I heard was, "You look like a runner." Meaning I am a normal person in a runner's costume--pink cap, long sleeve race t, sneakers, ipod.

I don't really object to that description because I don't feel like a runner. During my run, I meditated on what is it that tips one from feeling like something to claiming it as their identity.

My age is 21. vs I am an adult.

I am not a little girl anymore. vs I am a woman.

I've made a quilt. vs I'm a quilter.

I run. vs I am a runner.

I couldn't really decide what finally pushes one into assimilating an external reality into an internal one. I wonder if, like a mile marker in a race, we recognize it better when we've passed it?