I hate running. This has been my truth my whole life. Even as a child, when I was semi-decent and my P.E. coach would encourage me to practice more, I hated it. I barely enjoy a game of tag, I think I only played because I enjoyed the thrill of the chase and the anticipation of getting caught. Yet...
This morning I woke up and went for a ran. I ran down the street, up another, through a loop and finished at my house. It was exactly 1.46 miles and it wasn't so bad. But I still didn't like it. And I don't think I'll do it again for a long while.
This was my run in my head:
This was my run in my head:
5:28am: What a beautiful morning, I should get up at this time more often (while stretching on the side of the house).
5:30am: Should I start out walking or jogging, I guess I'm on a run so I should run.
5:31am: I love this! Smell all the freshly watered grass, look at that amazing spider web!
5:32am: Oh, there's a person walking their dog- I am too embarrassed to run in 'public' yet, do the loop in reverse- up that giant hill first.
5:35am: What the hell was I thinking?
5:38am: Oh my, it hasn't even been 10 minutes yet?
So on and so forth for 15 more minutes.
The thing is, I really believed this might be a pickles experience. Growing up, I hated pickles. It wasn't that I was a picky kid (though I was), I tried them at various times and each time, I didn't like them. Almost every year of my teens I would try another pickle. I don't know why I kept going back, there was just something to them- I really wanted to like pickles. And then I was in my early 20s and I tried another pickle. And it was delicious. And I tried another one somewhere else. Delicious. And now I love pickles.
But, alas, I still don't like running. It wasn't uncomfortable, it wasn't too hard, it didn't hurt. I loved getting up that early. I just didn't like running. Deep down, I know it's my perfectionist tendencies that are killing it for me. I feel most comfortable when I know I'm doing something 'correctly.' When I swim, I have my coach's voice in my head- look up, reach, pull, along the side, elbow up, etc- and I know I'm maximizing my movements and it feels good. I have no idea what I'm doing when I'm running. It seems silly- we're born knowing how to run, right? But my feet feel too heavy, my stride feels off, my knees seem to be going in strange directions.
For now, I think I'll just stick with swimming and pickles. Maybe I'll lace up my running shoes again next year.
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