Why I run

It is supposed to get snowy here tomorrow followed by an Artic cold front. So I figured I better get my long run for the week in today while I still have sidewalks and am not risking extreme hypothermia.

As I was setting my alarm for 5:30am last night I said, "I really don't want to do this run."

"So why are you doing it?" my boyfriend asked.

"Well I have to since I signed myself up for 2 marathons this spring."

"I mean why are you doing of it? You don't actually ever seem to like running. Why do you do it?"

I didn't have an answer for that. Why do I run?

Honestly, I don't love running when I am doing it. It's hard. I do spend a lot of time dreading my long runs and just wanting them to be over. I dread marathons. I ask myself frequently why the heck I decided to try and run one on every continent.

I don't ever get the same rush of pleasure and joy that I get skiing. I don't get the same adrenaline rush that I get during a kick-ass kickboxing class when the music is pumping. And yet, I have been running now for more than a decade. There must be some reason I keep doing it.

I love being outside. I like feeling the sunshine, the wind, the snow.

I love how running makes me feel clean. At the end of a run I feel light and pure.

I love the feeling of pride I get after a long run. 

I love the camaraderie among runners. As soon as I hear someone is a runner I like them more. I can sit and swap running stories for hours.

I love starting lives at races. The music, the sense of possibility, the  nervous energy.

I love how running lets me see the world in a different way. I have seen so many things while running when I was traveling that I would have missed otherwise.

Why do you run?

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