why i run. the real story.

Why I run.

…….because because because.

I have legs that work, and a big ol heart.

Everything scares me, and running use to scare me too. But then I got over that, and when  I run, it reminds me that I can be scared and do anything.

My sleeves don’t have enough snot on them.

It brings me community and connection that I woefully need.

I feel strong and sexy at the same time.

It is the realest thing my body knows how to do.

I don’t need make-up or to dress up fancy or put any kind of fancy shell on first. I can just show up.

My dad runs.

I use to hate it.

My old high school boyfriend told me I couldn’t and that I was fat, also, I hated in high school.

Sometimes, I have no idea how to mother, and running away seems to be the only option. I always come back.

Because sometimes, my mom couldn’t handle being a mother, and she didn’t always come back.

I love my son, and running reminds me to just feel that love very very hard.

I want to live a long life.

I don’t want to be scared.

When I don’t have the answer and I can either find it on a run or realize it doesn’t really matter after all.

My jokes are funnier to others who are all hopped up on endorphins.

To remember how wonderful and lovely life, people and this world is.

To see this earth and move over it with my own two damn feet.

Because beer and doughnuts are so good and like to make a home on my thighs as a special fuel reserves.

I will always have energy to run, and a super power to teach other people to learn to run.

I get to see and talk to the most human part of people.

Because I get to.

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