Sunday, January 17, 2010
2009 was the year I became addicted to running. I never thought it would happen.....
My relationship with running goes something like this. Mockery. Interest. Envy. Jealousy. Timid. Comfortable. Affectionate. Passionate.
This by no means indicates that I am a great runner. I waddle, I whine, and I only run outside in fair weather, but somewhere between mocking the idiots sweating on the streets and passionately craving a good day to slip on my shoes and head outside, I became a runner. Then the scale rewarded my running and I became excited.
I made a commitment and registered for a half marathon- and it is here. I will be running the course in Carlsbad along the shores and with the breeze this weekend.
I am doing it alone, which scares me more than anything, with no one to talk me out of walking and no stories to take my mind off which mile I am on.
I must have my ipod shuffle, my comfy Saucony shoes, and my pre-run puddings as part of my already well established running ritual.
I have to forget about the ankle that kept me down for a month. I must get over the ill-fitting temporary crown that attracts my tongue like a magnet. I must not worry that all of the runners I know were unable to join me.
Yes, I am scared.
I just gotta run.
art found at jillan tamaki