Running, why do you hate me? I love you so much. I love the wind on my face (when there is wind, I don't run fast enough to create any wind). I love the sun/rain on my face. I love the footfalls, everyone of those little impacts that propel me forward. Love, love, love it!
But you hate me. I tell you I want you, you throw me a stressed/hurting ankle. I tell you I need you, you give me knee pain leading me to believe I'll have IT band issues again. Why do I keep coming back? What pull do you have over me?
And there is the riddle. Why do I keep trying to chase, literally and figuratively, a dream of running long distances quickly?
Running gods, please let me make it to the Start line of the Southern California 1/2 in January. This is all I ask.