August has been the month where I get back in touch with the side of myself that runs. My relationship with running is a complicated one. I don’t love running. I don’t like scampering through the streets with my earbuds flying everywhere. I really hate the never-ending blisters. What I do like is the results. I love the feeling of accomplishment. I like feeling like I could run from stranger danger if I had to.
Have I been forcing myself to run by choice? Not really. Historically it seems that the only thing that motivates me to go for a run is a goal. Right now it is the goal to not have my lungs on fire come Halloween when I run my first ever half marathon. I signed up for this race with the encouragement of a friend. Only later did I realize the course is in a hilly park. Like HILLLLLY. So yea, I’m scared.