Why Would I Ever Run?

I’m not a runner–at all. No matter what shape I was in when I made a go at long distance, the results were never satisfactory. By the time I made it to the mile marker my body was telling me to quit. It wasn’t even that I was tired, it was more the laborious nature of running that made me quit each time. It was the fact that I had to keep breathing in a controlled fashion, I had to keep running, and mostly that I was bored out of my mind that always put me over the edge. Running–just to run–has always seemed like a giant time waster to me.

Why would I ever want to run?

The only activities that seemed like a good opportunity for running involved games–e.g. soccer, football, basketball–and had some purpose that kept the activity off of my mind. Strategy does that. I get no runner’s high, but I do get a competitive high. Running can be competitive, but christ, you just run and that is unbelievably worthless to me.

What sucks is that prior to my next surgery about the only real running like activity I can safely do is to jog/run in my neighborhood, on a track, or on a field. And so I’m stuck with the boring ass activity that it is. Wearing a brace that is increasingly uncomfortable for these activities makes me want to shoot my face; I’m pretty much ready to head into surgery and commence with the rehab all ready.

So, why would I ever run? Because the only way for me to safely exercise is to participate in an activity that I hate. The only thing is, it’s put me in a little healthier place. I’ve lost a bit of weight from running, exercising, and eating a little better.

I wasn’t able to reach one of my goals last month, though I made a pretty good go of it, but I still had to run.