running

Last night I went for a run.

Now this should be a fairly ordinary, regularly occurring sentence. But it isn't.

I used to run a lot. I used to like it.

But I don't particularly like running any more, well not long distances. Put me in a 200m sprint and I'm all smiles, get me to sustain a moderate pace for more than a minute and you've lost me.

The reason I struggle with running is also the reason I try to persist with it. Yes I can go to the gym and do a more varied workout for the same result. (Though my strength is pretty average these days too.) Yes I can do classes. Yes I can do interval training. But I continue to run/jog because it is a mental challenge for me.

Last night though, it was almost too much. I jogged approx 3.5km with a few sprints and walk down thrown in. By the end, the pain in my chest (I'm an asthmatic) nearly brought me to tears. If I'd been able to breath more clearly, I might have cried. Instead I wheezed my way to the bathroom floor and stayed there. I can laugh about it now, but it was a horrible, horrible feeling.

This is why I'm not a 'runner'. This is why fitness and daily exercise are not easy things for me to accomplish, and certainly aren't positive aspects of my life.

If I reach a PB, I feel a sense of accomplishment, of pride. But physically, I always feel wrecked. Mentally, I always feel dejected and disappointed. I know that physiologically we're all supposed to have endorphins, but goddamn where are they?

I'm not using this an excuse, it is something I've pushed through since I was a young girl. But as time becomes more precious and priorities changes, it's easier to push aside the unpleasant things.

So what now?

I'm going to continue to push myself. To keep running.

- Dani