|Me on the left|
Now, I'm a runner, and strangely proud to call myself so. I know about PRs and BQs and carb loading and negative splits and Yassos and that I over-pronate.
|My black toenail|
|1 of 7 medals|
I don't know how the transformation happens, exactly, from Hater (with a purposeful capital H) to runner (with a purposeful lowercase r, it isn't like I'm a professional or whatever), but it's pretty awesome that it does. Maybe it's like planned thoughts- suddenly, you find yourself thinking of something entirely different than you expected, and you're not quite sure how your thoughts traveled in that direction. I'm sure glad that I experienced the H2r change. If ever you think, "Not me! I'm no runner.", I advise you to remember me. My red, burning thighs, as the blood circulated through them faster than ever before. My whining about an extra tenth of a mile. My whining about another hill. My repeating, "I'm going to die. I'm really going to die" to my ever-so-patient sister during every run. And now, my planning each day around my run. My silly grin, when I see other runners working hard. My 5 a.m. speed workouts. My hundreds of miles, without a single one regretted.
Sheesh. I'm sappy lately, huh? I blame Ronde. His retirement from my favorite football team has me all sleepy...I mean emotional! I'm totally awake while I type this.
Okay, for real. Were you able to think only about what you planned to think about?