Went for a run today, in today’s scintillating news.
I was thinking on this run, about why I keep running.
It’s an open secret at this point that I sort of hate running. At least for the first six weeks, it usually involves a lot of moaning and groaning and hating everything and bargaining with myself so I do less of it.
The reasons are threefold:
- I eat like a garbage disposal and don’t want to die young
- Running is pretty easy for me – I have the shoes and the sports bra
- Those sweet, sweet endorphins, y’all
To expand on #3, running keeps me grounded. It reminds me of where I’m at, where I’ve been, what I’ve done to get there, and it also reminds me that pain is temporary. I recently read a post of Girly Juice’s, a sex toy reviewer and blogger, where she discusses spanking, and I can’t help but echo her thoughts on pain when I think about my relationship with running:
“My world will not unravel if I experience pain. Some moments will be difficult, sure, but those moments will end. And I will still be okay when they do.”
When I run, I generally hurt, but I am moving forward. I know I’ll feel good soon.
I even sometimes start to feel good during my run.
It’s gonna take work, but I’m doing it. Everything I want is going to take work, but I am going to figure out how to fucking get there, one way or another.