Why Is It So Hard Sometimes?

Why running? What in my right mind was I thinking? Because the rest of life is so mundane this is the subject in which I feel that I can control, to manipulate, and be taught by. I don't have to run. I don't have to do this marathon. But there is this annoyingly clever voice that says "Think of how disappointed you'd be if you didn't". So I go. I put on my clothes, I stretch and I run.

When the weather turns nasty and cold the bad part of me wants to stay in bed and read my book. But I had to do seven miles today. So I drove over to the parentals and picked up the running gear that I had drying on line (here's a little tip don't ever dry your gym clothes in the dryer. They die faster that way.) and went to the parkway. It was lonely and grey. Not a person around. Just me and the pavement. There is a moment before you start running its like a hesitation almost like before you begin a prayer you stand there and then you let yourself go. In my mine its like a nike commercial slow but determined the focused look. (In reality it probably looks like the picture in the last post but I can dream right?)

There is something we all do as people we can't explain to others. For some it is the deep abiding love for Edward the vampire, for others its watching American Next Top Model, but in the end it is our strange passions that connect us that if used rightly make us stronger. But its when we put ourselves in narrow boxes that I believe problems start.

I'm a runner.

Who are you?