Running is like drinking beer (or any kind of alcohol). For some people, it’s an acquired taste.
There was a time in my life when I hated running with a passion, when running half a mile was torturous and I told myself I’d rather die. And when I gained 35 pounds and read that the quickest way to lose weight was to pick up jogging…I gave it a go (and still hated it initially). But that’s the shorter version of the story.
The fact that I gained weight wasn’t the real issue. Sure, I wasn’t happy that I didn’t look like I did in high school anymore. But the weight was just surface level problem.
The real issue was I hated life. I hated myself, and every part of my being. I felt stuck, depressed, hopeless, gross, because I felt like I couldn’t get out of the life I was given. I felt victimized. And then I hated how I felt about that. And hated the fact I felt stuck. I could go on. It was a vicious cycle (insert angry Hulk smash here)…
I knew the only Continue reading Running is like drinking beer