....but each time it takes me different places. If you run, you know.
I have a love/hate relationship with running. Most times I hate it, to be honest. But I almost always love how much better I feel after a run. I started running in 2008/2009 when I changed careers and went to graduate school. Running was the cheapest form of exercise my husband and I could afford. I couldn’t even run a quarter mile at first without wanting to throw up.
(I also had been smoking cigarettes since 1994) But I stuck with running and it became a habit; cigarettes less a habit.
Ohhhhh, I used to run if I was bored.
I ran if I was happy.
I ran when I was sad.
I ran when I was stressed. It was like a punishment AND a reward. I realized I used to do that with cigarettes too. Had a bad day? Have a cigarette. Had an awesome day? Have a cigarette. I replaced running with that cigarette. Humans. We’re weird aren’t we? We reward and punish ourselves with the same behavior sometimes.
Maybe that’s why when I run, I feel a mix of emotions, because I run when I’ve felt all sorts of ways. I’ve cried on runs, my tears mixing with my sweat, stinging my eyes. I’ve laughed during runs, felt that runners’ high. I’ve sang along with my earbuds in, music blasting so loud. (Sometimes the song is just so good that it can never be loud enough, know what I mean?)
Sometimes I run until the pain goes away.
Sometimes I run to feel the pain.
And when my legs and lungs are tired. I run with my heart.
Today when I ran, I was listening and to modest mouse “Night on the Sun” - the extended 9 minute version for the last mile. I highly recommend you give it a listen if you haven’t. And for the last two minutes when I was struggling up the hill to my apartment, it was hard and great and nauseating but ohhh so satisfying. If you don’t run, I suggest you try it. You may not love it, but you won’t regret it.
Love the picture (great composition and depth of field). Love the post. Most definitely do not love running. I have two marginally bad knees that are not very tolerant of getting pounded, and flat feet that make running a serious pounding (I was told by an ortho surgeon who was a foot/ankle specialist treating my sprained ankle that I had the flattest feet he had ever seen...even pulled in a med student to marvel at them). So, no running for me.
Nor cigarettes. Tried them as a teen but my lungs reacted poorly. So my happy/sad/pain relief was food, then food and alcohol, but the ethanol enthusiasm was getting out of hand so now it's just food.
Nor cigarettes. Tried them as a teen but my lungs reacted poorly. So my happy/sad/pain relief was food, then food and alcohol, but the ethanol enthusiasm was getting out of hand so now it's just food.
Checking out the tune on Spotify now...