A love letter to running

A humble thank you is all I think when I think of you. Dear running, you changed my life. And I don’t say that lightly. Being a slow runner, time stretches for me. And the suffering with it. So it’s not the running that I love per se.

It’s everything else. The clarity, the mentality, the solitude, the ritual of coffee, shoes, stretching, music, cycling to the stadium, parking, walking and running. Voila. It’s like the conductor of my one-man army orchestra. Believe it or not, running even got me my dream job, I’m sure of it.

It forces me to confront my current, ever so passively. Which I find beautiful — for once, being present doesn’t feel like it's a chore. Probably because running itself is a chore. Do two chores cancel each other out? Probably.

Digesting thoughts, ideas, and worries at my own pace. I peel away at each slowly, come to conclusions more often than not, and prove something to myself daily. Afterwards, I move as a more confident person into my day, having checked off the biggest task first thing in the morning. Self-care.

Without you, I don’t think I’d be this version of me. One I love, respect and chose to present to the world proudly.