Running Sucks, But Do It Anyway
Let’s get this out of the way.
You’re not going to like it. Not unless you’re a psychopath.
Almost everyone hates running. If you’re among the minority that actually enjoys every step, then I salute you for being an ascended superhuman.
Running sucks for most of us. It certainly sucks for me. I despise virtually every second of it, and even when I’m done running, I hate recovering from it just as much.
The wooziness, the cotton mouth, the aching quads and calves. The hamstrings that are so tight that you could have Larkin Collins play the best Free Bird solo ever with them.
All of it flat out, 100% sucks.
I’m glad that it sucks, though. Because I feel like if I enjoyed running in the same way that I enjoyed writing, I probably wouldn’t be getting the same takeaway from it.
Running is the civilized equivalent to the ancient beloved pastime of chasing a deer to eat it for caveman breakfast, because they didn’t have the benefit of Denny’s. It was either run or starve.
You need to do it to maintain your health. And that struggle each day (or at least, a few times a week) is what keeps your body from getting complacent.
Trust me, there’s nothing more humbling than gasping and dying as you’re lapped by the seventy-something year old at the school track. It’s embarrassing, but it’s necessary.
The great, well-known philosopher “Jake the Dog” understood that humble beginning perfectly:
The nice thing about running is that it provides direct feedback. You know when you’re out of shape, but you have the guarantee of improvement if you keep up.
It’s a mental game more than a physical one, ironically. And that’s the greatest lesson running teaches: it teaches you to kill the weeds in your brain.
They never go away, but you get a little bit better at subduing them each time they appear.
And that acquired mental resilience is worth a little bit of pain.
