People ask me why I run. To be honest, that's a difficult question to answer. Running is the biggest love-hate relationship. Because I do not always love running. In fact, I often abhor and dread it. Especially in the winter. Because although the cool, crisp air in my lungs is one of the most refreshing and wonderful feelings I have ever had, it is still winter. Meaning, there is either ice or snow on the ground (or both) which makes it completely difficult to run, and therefor must run slower. And it is cold, so therefor it's uncomfortable, and I must wear, no joke, a whopping 5 pounds more of clothes. Which is uncomfortable, and makes me go slower. Also, choosing what to wear is quite difficult. Especially when I'm already cold before I go out, and so of course I'll want to pile on a lot, but if I do too much I'll get hot. And hate the run. So I pretty much try to follow this rule of thumb when I run:
But yeah, choosing clothes is tricky sometimes. And I'm good at dilly-dallying pre-run. That is, when I'm running at home (as opposed to school), I can take a good 45-minutes to get ready. I just begin to over-analyze what is about to happen. Thoughts begin to cycle through my head:
"I'm going to run and I'm going to be running for X amount of time. When I begin, that is only minute number one and I still will have X to go."
"What if I hurt. What if it's a super crappy run."
"What if I haven't waited long enough since I ate and I will feel like I'm going to explode, but I can't explode because I'm only three miles in and have three to go."
"Ahh, this is going to suck."
"I could be doing so many other things in the time it takes to run"
I then realistically ponder that last question. That is, what would I actually do if I was not running? More often than not, the answer is not much. For when I enter my run, it is after I had been studying all day and so I'm taking a break. I could look for things to do on Pinterest, but chances are that is as far as it would go. Truth be told, surfing the web is what I would end up doing. Or baking cookies.
And so I run. And it happens. And I never regret it. I end it feeling accomplished. I get a runners high where I'm super happy and everything is awesome. And I feel all "I love running it's so good I should have kept running!" Until I crash and tomorrows tangle begins.
"I'm going to have to run. Again."