The other night this guy asked me if I like running, and I didn't really know what to say. I'm not a runner. I don't have running shorts. I barely have running shoes. I wear whatever shirt I pull out of the drawer, and my sister's old basketball shorts.
My whole life I told people I hated running.
When I started running a few months ago I really hated it. It was really ruining my life. It made me want to throw up. I could barely run for five minutes without stopping. I'd come home dizzy, still wanting to throw up. I had to run on the treadmill or else I'd stop every minute and walk up the hills. And, I hated running on the treadmill at the gym because I was forced to watch closed captioning on weird TV shows. Like I said, it was ruining my life.
But slowly slowly I stopped wanting to throw up. Then I started running faster. Then sometimes I wanted to hop up and down because running felt so good.
Anyways, my triathlon is on Saturday, so even though I'd worked all day, and had two very small people scream in my face for fifteen minutes each, and felt like I might die of fatigue, I went running. And to my endless happiness, when I got to my car...I didn't really want to stop.