I want to be someone who runs. Who likes it. Who’s fast and not easilie winded. Can take her pit bull for a run and bring him back tired. And I’m working on it, but it’s going to take a while.
I coach Girls on the Run to help out. I just joined the Whovian Running Club. Everyday my Todoist To Do List reminds me that I need to run for twenty minutes. And some days I don’t postpone it until tomorrow.
I’m getting better. I can feel it when I do run. My legs don’t hurt as much and though my chest still aches after, my breath comes a little easier during. And while I’m running I wonder WHY i want to be good at this.
I think about the way my legs will feel tomorrow. About the dryness in my mouth and the way it feels like someone is tightening a clamp around my chest and I think WHY is this important to me. It feels like insanity. Like cognitive dissonance. How can I want this thing that hurts? Why would I?
My eyes are watering in the wind and I’m constantly nervous that my glasses will fall off and break or get lost. And I feel victorious. I feel unconquerable, like it says on my lower back. I feel like I really AM the master of my soul.
It’s a good feeling. Is it worth the achie legs? The shortness of breath? The sweat? The waterie eyes? It must be… or why else am I here?