Those who run away from me are afraid that they might confess their love to me.

The only exercise I’ve done this month is running… out of money!

I saw someone wearing a shirt today that said “Eat Pasta Run Fasta,” and I can’t get it out of my head.

Running feels great until you compare it to not running.

The only running I do is to chase the ice cream truck.

Life hack: If you never leave the house you don’t have to worry about running into someone you don’t want to talk to.

Never signed up for a 401k cause there’s no way in hell I can run that far.

Adult life sucks. Friends don’t even ask to see how fast you can run in your new shoes anymore.

Every morning I announce that Im going for a jog, but then I don’t go. It’s a running gag.

“It’s the most wonderful crime of the year!” I crooned running away with the pot of Santa’s donations.

My kids couldn’t care less about personal hygiene unless we are running late somewhere.

Satan: “Would you please stop sacrificing animals to me. I’m not running a zoo down here.”

I just locked eyes with a spider. But instead of killing him I ran away and hid, so he can spend the night stressing about where I am.

Everyday is leg day when you’re running from your problems.

Nothing worse than when I turn up to Park Run to find it is indeed going ahead.

Pitching a sitcom where all the top people running a major city have been arrested and by chain of command the person in charge is now a librarian.

I feel sorry for Netflix era kids. They will never know the high stakes adrenaline of running away in an ad break, with the beckoning call of a sibling screaming “It’s ON!” to send you hurdling over furniture to get back in time.

I get all the cardio I need by running out of patience.

Went jogging and came back after five minutes because I forgot something. Forgot I’m out of shape.

I decided not to go for a run today because of the weather, but mostly because of the running.