In Which Me Asks Myself "Am I A Real Runner?"

Me: Good Morning, how are you?
Myself: Oh, not bad thanks, how are you?
Me: Hey, not bad at all. Was wondering if you could help me with something.
Myself: Go ahead, shoot.
Me: Okay...now I know I've asked you before but I was wondering if you could maybe tell me again...
Myself: Yes?
Me: I was wondering. Am I a "real runner"?
Myself: Oh, for goodness sake! AGAIN? (sighs)
Me: I know, we've talked about this before...and I thought I had a bit of a handle on it...but...
Myself: Okay, I don't mind doing this one more time, here we go. "Do you run?"
Me: No
Myself: What? Any other time I asked, you said "Yes".
Me: I know...(anxiously)
Myself: So what's different now? Are you injured?
Me: No, not really.
Myself: Well then, is it just a really busy time of year and you haven't had the opportunity to get out there?
Me: Don't think so, it hasn't been any busier than last year at this time and I was running tons back then.
Myself: So is it just a motivation issue?
Me: Not sure what else it could be. It feels stupid cuz I remember all the times I was desperate to run but I couldn't. And now that I can run....I'm not! I hear about all these injured runners out there and it's almost like hey, wanna borrow my legs, cuz they're perfectly fine and I'm not usin' them anyway!
Myself: Hmmm. How's your weight?
Me: Yeah, it's going up a little. I don't run and that's what happens...
Myself: So are you watching what you eat?
Me: You bet. I watch it on the plate, I watch it onto my fork and then I watch it go into my mouth.
Myself: You're funny. Not. What's the snacking like, still doing the celery and peanut butter thing?
Me: Yep. And then I do the ice cream thing, the chip thing, the chocolate bar thing, and the buttered popcorn thing. And lord help me if there's leftovers from dinner...
Myself: Oh. My. God.
Me: I know. It's bad, isn't it?
Myself: You bet. I don't even really know what to say or suggest doing differently. So do you miss it, the running?
Me: I do, I used to live for the run days and was always sort of at loose ends if it wasn't one. And now I pretty well couldn't care less. So that's why I asked you again if you thought I was a real runner. It's almost as if I can feel it all slipping away.
Myself: Okay, here's what I know. Running will always be there for you. As much as you might not always be there for it, it will be like the most faithful and forgiving girlfriend you could ever wish for. It will pass no judgement and will greet you with open arms whenever you choose to run again. And when you do go back to it, cuz you and I know you will, it will once again give you back more than you could possibly give it in return. 
Me: You're sure about that...?
Myself: No doubt about it. And as to that "Am I a real runner" thing you keep springing on me, I don't think there's a runner out there who at some point didn't have that very same question, possibly over and over again. And I think a lot of them maybe even stopped running altogether, for whatever reason, and wondered what role it played in their lives. And then...because they were a real runner...they ran!
Me: Okay. (pause) Cool.