The Wednesday night tradition is back. Last night was the 3rd Nite Moves of the season — the weekly 5K along the coastline that’s followed by food, beer, live music and the loss of feeling in your fingertips from the slightly freezing beach air.

I’ve run Nite Moves on and off for 10 years (with 3 straight years off when I lived out of town). This year I committed. I signed up for the entire 2009 season so that I couldn’t use my usual “it’s too expensive” excuse. 

Last night I had fun. I attribute this to three things:

1) I like running fast*. I was happy that I shaved a minute off my time between the two races this month. When I crossed the mile mark at 20 seconds faster than the previous week, I felt a momentary “Whoah, tiger.” But since I felt great, I kept going. Pacing is overrated.

*And by fast, I only mean fast by my own body’s standards. I gauge fast by my sweat, my breath, my heart rate and my perception of how fast my legs are turning over. I like when I feel like an athlete.

 2) I like my friends. One group of my friends is Athletes (they get a capital A). They’re training for a triathlon, excuse me, an Ironman (the capital I is well earned). Even though they have a nearly religious commitment to their workout schedule, they have fun when the wetsuits come off. They pretty much find some reason to celebrate with cake or cupcakes every week at Nite Moves.

One friend and co-worker ran her first race ever last night. I loved that other friends and co-workers were cheering her in at the finish and showing her where to get the beer.

I also saw a college friend and his wife — she’s out running after giving birth to a beautiful boy only three months ago. All the familiar faces in the crowd reminded me that this isn’t just a weekly race, it’s a runners’ reunion.

3) I like McConnell’s ice cream. It makes me happy. Thank you for the big scoop.

Like anything, there’s room for improvement. During the milling around time before the run starts, I see a lot of people who look lonely or bored — sometimes I’m one of them. I’m afraid that if I just say hi to someone, they’ll look at me with that “Why are you talking to me?” expression.

My challenge for next week: I promise to try starting a conversation with a stranger. If you read this and do the same, the whole scene may become a lot more friendly. And over time, there will be more familiar faces in the crowd and more people to cheer you on as you pass each other.