Tuesday, August 9, 2011

More on boys (or lackthereof) and running

I'll be honest, I've never been a runner.  In elementary school, I dreaded the Presidential Fitness Test because it meant I'd be stuck, yet again, running a mile and finishing dead last.  I ran track for a year in middle school because all my friends were doing it, but the team was something of a joke, and I finished last in pretty much ever race I ran.  I played field hockey goalie for two seasons in high school despite constant threats to my life (a bunch of preppy girls running around in skirts doesn't sound scary, but talk to me after you've had a few balls hit you in the head) because it involved not having to run up and down the field all the time. 
The only time running has ever seemed like a good idea to me was when I've been going through boy issues. Right after high school ended, I remember doing a few solid days of running to try and clear my head about one particular guy, but the midwest summer humidity kicked in pretty shortly thereafter, and that was the end of that.
The summer after sophomore of college, I went on a general fitness kick trying to forget a particularly painful breakup.  This involved three days of running that felt amazing, and then funny things started happening to my knee, and that was the end of that.  Fast forward about six months to me being in England, studying abroad, and still not being over that boy, and getting really into running for the first time ever.  As in, I ran consistently for probably about a month, loved it, and then exams happened and that was the end of that.
Fast forward to now.  I have some weird feelings about this particular breakup as it relates to running, but I'm trying not to let those get in my way.  I've needed something new and different, something I can set a goal with, and running feels like that.  I know it's wildly premature, but I feel like this could be the breakup that really turns me into a runner.

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