feel it all

thewordunheard:

I hate you.

Oh, I hate you so, so much.

I hate that there is never a good temperature for running - you either get terribly sweaty and splotchy and red and gross, or the air you breathe in is so harsh and cold you feel like your lungs are hardening.

I hate that people who work a full-time job have to either drag themselves out of their fabulously cushy beds at ungodly hours of the morning to run, or to run after they’ve had a full day of meals. Equally unsavory options. Worse still in colder months, when mornings are dark, beds are warm, and wintry foods are heavy.

And I hate what you give me, Running - which is to say that the more I do you, I feel ever so slightly more like I can master a run, but I never feel so much more capable that anything is ever easy. Anything. I am incapable of feeling like I’m in shape. So screw you.

I will say this for you: you allow me to eat lots of junk food. You are the cheapest and most effective form of exercise (no need to join a gym). And I admit that my legs look and feel mightier than ever.

But while I’ve learned to tolerate you, Running, I don’t think we’ll ever be friends.

Begrudgingly,
Arielle