I have decided that nobody hates running. We may dislike it because we think we cannot run but we can. I have hated running with all my might all these years. As a child, whenever I would start running, I would fall on my face. My father’s theory was that because my head is bigger than my body, running would send my head crashing down to earth. I ignored it but it’s true. I did fall whenever I ran. Sometimes deliberately, because I thought I was going to fall anyway, why not just do it prematurely instead of having it happen to me without my knowledge.

I don’t want to jinx it but I am going to say this anyway. I have been waking up fairly early every morning since last Saturday so I can go jogging. It’s a good way to watch my thoughts and because all my thoughts are about me – the victim, in ALL scenarios, it becomes easier to ignore tear ducts when all your blood is threatening to fall out of your lungs and face. I took it slow the first two days, watching my breath as I slowly began to run out of it, feeling my face growing warmer, my armpits collecting moist, my inner thighs burning with itch, my forehead bubbling with hot blood, and now slowly I am beginning to pick speed. It’s just 2 minutes of jogging and 18 minutes of recovering from it. So far, so good.

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