Run away as fast as you, can.
I sit here, writing, with my entire lower body feeling as though it is a marshmallow that has gotten too close to the flame – on fire. I have recently been running again, probably the first time I have run 3 times in 4 days since I dislocated my knee-cap back in 2008. Straight running. No funny business. No sports that distract from the pain, not running in heels for a train, just running. I’m not great, frankly I think most people look ridiculous when they run, myself included. But there is something about running that strips away all notions of looking good.
Running doesn’t love you back. I don’t eagerly jump out of bed to the warm embrace of a run. It’s work. It is 45 minutes of continuous struggle. It’s a constant push. It’s knowing when you need a break. It’s pushing past that break. It’s running through the pain. It’s waking up the next morning with sore muscles. It’s struggling to squat onto a chair, and/or toilet seat. It’s not going to hold your hand when your shoes hit the pavement – it’s just you and the road.
That’s all I have ever thought running was, until now.
Running is freeing. It’s liberating. It’s take no prisoners, and kick ass for 45 minutes. It’s rewarding. It’s struggle, good struggle. It’s challenging, It’s being determined. And, above all else, it’s just you. No one else can help you, but you. You have to push yourself, you have to be committed, and you have to want to run.
Tonight I am taking the night off and letting these puppies cool down. But I’ll be back, and working just as hard. Because unlike the times before, I’m glad it’s just me and the road ahead.