My body hurts.
I ran over ten miles last week, and before I know it, I’ll be running ten miles in a day…
Remind me why I thought becoming a runner was a swell plan…?
Because my swollen, mud splattered ankles make for top notch blog copy.
I have found, though, that I am already starting to reap the benefits of getting off my own butt and doing something active on a regular basis. At work yesterday, Nino looked over and said, “You’re skin looks really great – what have you been doing?” As this particular workplace happens to be a cosmetics shop, I’m sure he was expecting me to tell him I switched moisturizers or started sleeping on a silk pillowcase. When I told him I’d been running, he nodded anyway and just said, “Yep. That makes sense.”
Yes, my body still hurts, but not as much as it did that first day, and not nearly as much as I would have expected it to after two weeks of running four to five days a week. I still want to rip off my own feet at the end of mile two most days, but at least that distracts me from my knee, which honestly hans’t been bugging me as much as I would have thought. I’ve also got a pretty impressive bruise on my thigh from a spill I took the other day on my trail of choice, but I’m proud of myself for getting up from said spill and finishing that day’s mile goal.
I suppose what I’m learning is that running is hard, but worth it. I have to make myself do it and those initial few moments of “crap, I don’t want to” are probably harder to get through than a stitch in my side on mile two. There will always be reasons why I shouldn’t or can’t or won’t, but the reasons I should or can or will are more important.