Sometimes life hands you lemons.
Then you grab your running shoes.
As a trained therapist, I have found myself saying countless times that someone should consider talking to a professional about whatever it is that emotionally ails them.
As an individual without insurance, I have found myself spending a lot of time tapping out the pavement at paces that are a bit faster than when I'm in a good mood and things are going hunky dory.
There is something exceptionally liberating about doing a power air guitar to an angry girl song while running a sub-eight minute pace that seems to shove those burdens back to the front door mat you stepped on while leaving for your run. Catharsis is running so hard in a run with all of the yuck running in your head that you keel over, not knowing if you have the energy to puke or cry, and feeling too exhausted to fight whichever comes.
Recently I bought a new pair of running shoes. I was a little taken aback-- I just got my last pair at the end of March. That's ridiculous! One pair of shoes run to pieces in just four and a half months?!
Then I did the math. Four and a half months worth of weekly therapy sessions, monthly refills of antidepressants, and countless pounds of chocolate > the cost of a pair of running shoes.
I am so grateful that running has become something that saves me from myself, rather than a means of punishment.
Lately, I've been running through the suck. Chasing the catharsis. And God knows-- that's the reason for the cooler weather. You didn't know? It's all been for me. /narcissism
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