and it is entirely too amusing :P I’m bouncing back and forth on it to the beat of the music, it is way more fun than it should be.

its more than an activity or a motion - it’s a lifestyle. It shapes every other aspect of my being.

it reminds me how far I’ve come.

At 11, running a mile with my best friend.

At 13, feeling like 3 miles was the farthest I could go.

At 14, doing a brutal 4 miles in the snow the very first day I joined track.

Last August at 17, groaning when we had to go out for 6 at practice.

Last November, running my first half.

Today, 8 miles is a breeze, and I ran 18 a couple days ago. I’ve come so far, and if that is not something to feel ridiculously victorious about, I don’t know what is.

it is objective. The clock tells me how good I am, and its opinion of me doesn’t change over time. I don’t have to worry about being found inferior, for the standards are set by me.

There are days on end without the sun. The clouds are claustrophobic. The snow is frigid and unwelcoming. 

The idea of burrowing in with a hot cup of tea, wool socks, and a good book of faraway places is initially appealing, but then only brings on loneliness.  There is a heaviness in my heart, and a fogginess in my mind.

I can’t do this. When can I see the sun?

(Source: runyourlittleheartout, via runningismyboyfriend)