but don’t ask me to run. Any. Earlier this year, I pinky promised one of my brothers, a veteran runner with a couple of full and half marathons under his belt, that I would run the Disney Wine and Dine Half Marathon in November. Each of our spouses agreed to run with us and we got
Alarm goes off at 4:45am and my brain screams at my hand to make it effing stop. It’s dark out and I hate that any of this is happening. Why is this happening? No matter how many times I do this, I simply cannot comprehend what is going on because SLEEP. I put on my
I hate running. I want to enjoy it. I want to be one of those people who run to clear their mind and feel free. But I’m not. This is what’s going on in my head when I run: Am I almost done? This sucks. I should be folding laundry now. Am I almost done?
Road races are popping up everywhere, which makes me pretty happy. The me from eight years ago would have hated that the me of now just made that statement. At the risk of sounding super corny, running has changed my life. OK, I would have hated that I made both of those statements. Now, I