Tuesday, August 15, 2017

Running

It is well established that I am crazy.  If you don't know that by now, I strongly encourage you to go back to this post and just read from the beginning.  Seriously, take the time.  I'd lay money on the fact that by the time you get to January 2011 you won't have to keep on keepin' on.  You'd be a believer.  A converted crazy cognizant, for those alliterative types out there.

Runners are also crazy people.  I mean seriously, who wants to engage in a sport where you could possibly literally shit yourself?  Seriously, google "runner trots".  Avoid the images.

I have been running more lately.  Now, don't think that I am about to go to any kind of race and win.  Or even finish in the bottom 10%.  More like dead last. (Though I suppose technically that is in the bottom 10%, so...) But it  has been good for me to have that outlet for myself.  That alone time, of just listening to music and focusing on not dying.  Because you feel that way sometimes while running.  Then you get the runner's high and can't wait to go back at it.  Hell, I probably would struggle to finish a 5K in under 35 minutes, to be perfectly honest.  Way above my times in high school...hell, way above my time in high school 7 months pregnant running cross country (true story).  I'm not doing it for any kind of award. Or even to get into shape, really.

I'm doing it for my sanity.  Which, if you followed my instructions above, is clearly questionable at best.

That is why it was so disheartening the other day when I had a really shitty run.  Like, almost literally shitty.  It was the kind of run where my limbs felt leaden, like they all had an extra 20 lb weight strapped to all of them.  Where I could not get into a rhythm of any sort.  Where my knees vaguely ached as did my muscles, but no amount of warming up or stretching would alleviate the pain.  Where I seriously thought I might actually poop while running.  And it was only 4 miles I ran.

"Only four miles".  Who the fuck even talks like that?  Crazy people, that's who.  Crazy people who run.  Which them makes them even crazier.  And thus starts the endless loop of craziness.

From now on, that is totally where I am blaming my crazy on.  Forget that I will never run a marathon.  Forget that there are people twice my age lapping me.  Forget that I have been crazy for way more years than I have run.  I am crazy, therefore I run.  I run, therefore I am crazy.  There's a nice symmetry to it.  A limitless loop of lunacy, with no clear beginning or end.  Again, with the alliteration.

On second thought, don't bother going back and re-reading.  If this post alone hasn't convinced you, just stop reading.  Forever.  I don't need that kind of negativity in my life.  And by negativity, I mean complete and total denial.


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