So anyway…

I’m running again. And for the most part it’s making me happy, but by that I mean after I’m finished running, I’m SO happy it’s over.

While I’m running I am fairly grumpy. “Why did I stop running? Starting over sucks. I’m so much slower than I thought I’d be/used to be. Nothing is chasing me. I hate this. Look! I’m running farther/faster than last time! OK now can I quit? Ugh. This sucks…” ad nauseam until I finally reach my goal for the day. Which is typically 5 miles or less…

And I’ve noticed on tough days I do something that I’ve started calling “Goldilocks-ing”. I run a mile or two and then find some flaw with the treadmill I’m on. It’s tilted. It’s slightly inclined. It’s slipping or clicking or my footfalls are too loud. So I change to another one. And a couple miles in I find a new complaint. And I do it again. Until I settle on yet another treadmill that I run my last and most comfortable miles for the day on. THE ONE. The best treadmill.

The next run, I start on the one I ended on the last time. The good one. But a couple miles later… Goldilocks.

Do you know what I mean? Does this happen to you?

I’m running again, though. I’m running because of some empty space in my head that I haven’t been able to fill recently, and some combination of smoldering internal desire and fiery external competition, and because I’ve written about 26 blog posts in my mind about running that I need to be rid of. So I think I must need an outlet both physically and literarily. The more I run the more I remember why I loved running. The more I run the less I Goldilocks the treadmills.

So. Let’s run.



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