The soul selects her own society

I don't know how many of you have seen the Josh Jackson classic, The Skulls, but if you haven't, you should. Mainly because Josh is just impossibly hot, even whilst pretend rowing. The movie revolves around the notion of secret societies at Ivy League schools, and now that I've been running a few weeks, I'm finding the idea more and more plausible. Because when you encounter another runner while running yourself, they always acknowledge you in some way -- smile, nod, "Good work," etc. Such friendliness, I must say, I find rather odd coming from New Englanders. At times, it's been helpful -- like last week, when it was 800 degrees with 300% humidity, it was comforting to know that there was someone else running like an imbecile, and said runner acknowledged this shared stupidity with a "hey." It's like I'm part of some weird secret society of pain. Not unlike being a Mark Bellhorn fan. Or loving the Foulke and trying to defend his sudden intimacy with the sucking.