I am always asked why I run. I thought about it more than usual today as I was out for my scheduled 2 miles which was really more like 2.3 miles (but what's .3 miles between friends).
I run because I am an angry, neurotic, wound up person and physical exhaustion helps to mitigate the stress and pressure (which is mostly self-imposed).
I run because it helps me control my weight. I weigh myself daily. I hate being fat. I was fat in high school (well, I was a lot of things in high school, but being chubby didn't help my social situation). I have a better body now than I have ever, at any point in my life ,and I am the healthiest I have ever been.
I run because, even though I am cursing the weather and my smelly gear and the way my water belt chafes me when I forget to use Bodyglide, I am always happier when I come back home than when I left.
I run marathons because they're physically and mentally demanding and exhausting. Most people haven't run one and you likely don't know if it's good that I did a 3.10 or a 4.30, but I know what goes into it and I know what it takes out of me and every time that I cross the finish line, whether it was with a smile or with tears in my eyes I am thankful that I persevered just this one more time.
I run because nothing that you really want, that you really desire in life comes easily, and for each 26.2 that I am rewarded for, that hangs off my bookcase (Kelowna, Vancouver, Victoria {twice}, Boston) I know that that is a stepping stone to move on to bigger things if I ever so desire.
When you know what you are capable of, that is when you can decide whether you want to continue or not.
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Oh! Oh! You know why else I run? The taper!
This week I have to run two miles, then three miles, and then three miles again: I have three days of rest. It's awesome! It's so little physical activity that I will have to diet even more than normal.
The taper is where it's at.
I mean, there's that whole nasty marathon looming at the end, but still...
3 comments:
Do what you like with the hair. Tans come and go. If you touch that beauteous nose or alter that personality, what would be the point of existence?
Once when I was running Vancouver, one of the spectators was holding up a sign that said, "If I have to explain 26.2 to you, you won't understand".
And you weren't "fat" in highschool. I never once thought of you as fat. Have you seen a fat person? They're quite large.
Ha. I'll keep the personality, but I've been contemplating the nosejob for a while. It's a honkin' schnoz.
Supermommy: that's cool that you saw that sign, it does epitomize what it is that we do. And no, no one ever thought I was fat in highschool so I must've been some kind of miraculous dresser cause I am 4/5 the weight that I was back then. I lost almost 35lbs after we graduated!
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