Dude, I ran last night. I ran!
Ok, it's not really so monumental in the grand scheme of things, but it is to me. I've basically not been running since my half marathon last summer. I think that in the past 8 months, I maxed out at 4 miles for my longest run. And that estimate is probably generous. This past month, I've only run a few times and those runs hovered around the 2.5 mile mark. I bring all this up because I've been feeling so gross about my body lately. Just generally disgusted with how I look and feel. And you know that feeling when you've really put in a hard workout? How you feel so strong and vital and just plain awake the next day? I've been missing that. I've reeeeeally been missing that.
So, this week, I decided to make myself work. No 2.5 mile runs that make me sweat but don't burn any calories. No. If those Biggest Loser folks can work themselves harder than they ever have, I sure as heck can do a 5 mile run when I'm out of shape. So I did. I did! Last night, I did a hilly 5 miles at a very respectable pace. And it felt goooooooood. I am already in one of my best moods today than I've been in months. No lie. I always forget how running makes me feel. I just need to get out there and sweat out the uglies, and I'm so much more pleasant.
Which reminds me of a poem I've been carrying around for years. I saw it as a magazine cut-out pinned to someone's bulletin board and quickly scribbled it down. I've posted it here before, but it totally warrants a repeat.
it loves to go for runs.
because it loves the chance to think.
to have long conversations with myself.
and every time i feel surprised.
i never realized how badly we needed to talk.