The Truth About Running

Running isn't "pretty". There's nothing cute about sweat dripping into your eyeballs or chafe in places you didn't know existed. Sometimes it's cold, sometimes it's raining... or if you're lucky, it's both. Training is hard; it's bedtime at 9pm on a Friday when you know your friends are out, so you can get that crack of dawn long run in. It's precious hours of your already limited free time. It's gravel in your hands and knees when you catch that curb at the wrong angle. It's shooting pains in your shins after hill drills. Running can be all of these things at one point or another, but I'll tell you one thing that it is all the time; BAD. ASS. It's the high from realizing you ran a little faster or a little farther than last week. It's the pride of a new PR. It is the feeling that if you move those legs any faster, you can fly. The feeling the pavement gives you after a bad day or a crappy week... that's what it's all about. The beauty of a clear mind. The fierceness of a girl on a mission. The moment when you cross that finish line. It's about finding that fire inside of you that tells you to move faster when you want to stop. It is about grit. Guts. Grace. You want to know why I do it? This, right here, is it. It may not be pretty, but it sure is beautiful. I am a runner, and I'm DAMN proud.