I remember that first jog like it was yesterday....or this morning...mostly because I felt just as close to dying this morning...and yesterday...and if I'm spared I will feel the very same way tomorrow morning and Saturday morning maybe even worse.
I can clearly remember everything I was thinking that first time: "how long until this gets easier?"
But we joggers and runners are a funny bunch.
The pain never gets any easier or less and neither does the perceived effort.
The only difference that ever happens is we go further and faster.
Many people have asked me why I run, mostly my family.
I can honestly say I don't know of a single jogger in my WHOLE family.
There's plenty of talented athletes amongst them but our bloodline seems to be infused with the kind of talent that lends itself a lot better to sports where flatout speed and strength rules the roost.
I guess whatever talent I have leans that way as well.
Both physiologically and psychologically I struggle to keep it up(jogging).
Honestly, I hate the discipline and work it takes just to stay where I am in the scheme of it all.
But God, in his infinite wisdom, has taken everything else I love from me so it's either running or doing nothing.
Sometimes I just want to quit, but there are people that expect a whole lot more from me than I am delivering at the moment.
In the whole course of my life other people's opinion have meant very little but I wonder what they see that I can't.
So I run even though I hate it, it hurts and I don't see it ever getting better.
I run because I will always love the reason I took my first tentative jog and that will never change.
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