I started running consistently about a year ago. I had run on and off (mostly off) for the previous couple of years after avoiding it for most of my life (the reason for that requires a whole new post). But last year I was 30 and decided that I would run a half marathon – quarter life crisis much? And I did (1:42:01). And it was great. I was converted.
I logged my runs, tracked my mileage (science data geek) and immersed myself in running culture. I felt fit and alive. I felt that my body was doing exactly what it was designed to do. I felt strong and confident. I was no longer the unfittest girl in the room.
I got my first running injury – out for almost 3 whole months – and I was devestated. Running had become my meditation, my stress relief, my comfort. I had become a runner and I wanted to stay a runner.
After a length rehab I slowly started back. And I felt like me again. This was now a part of me. Now getting up a 6am to run isn’t so bad (I mean it’s a little bad – that is early!). When I wake up I don’t think “I HAVE to run for 40 mins today”, instead I think “I GET to run 40 mins today”. It’s amazing what a year can do.