Saturday, May 6, 2017


Let's review.  I ran a couple marathons.  I developed chronic exertional compartment syndrome (CECS).  I broke my ass in a Spartan Race. I had surgery for chronic exertional compartment syndrome.  I ran a couple half marathons.  I would stop running for months a time and I gained 40 lbs.

Why did I even do this in the first place?  Well, sure, I started running because I felt (back when I weighed 140) like I was gaining weight, so I trained for a 5K.  After that, although I don't necessarily always enjoy the act of running itself, especially in the hot fucking summer months, it gave me a way to win.  Something other than my job that I could challenge myself with and get the feedback of shiny participant medals and even an occasional age-group award. Well, twice.  And one was by default, I think.  But, still I was right in the middle of the pace bell curve in every distance except the marathon.  For awhile, I was running 10 miles 3 or 4 times a week.  I ate whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted, and I was lovin' it.  Then the CECS, the broken ass, and I let myself go.

It's not fun or easy anymore, and it's only going to get worse as the temperatures go up.  But I once used running to fight my stress and depression, and well, everyone I know is going through hard times right now, my favorite little kitty isn't around to purr at me anymore, and look at what the shit our government is trying to get away with. It seems like I need running more than ever, no?

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