To run, I need the basics, water, shoes, and a damn good sports bra. Nothing ruins your run like having your titties smack you in the face with every step you take. When I run, I like to have a set plan of where, when, how far, and how quickly I will run. I like to have this structure because it gives me peace of mind while I run so as I’m running, I don’t have to worry about where I will run or what I’m going to do after my run. I also need a lot of motivation. Running, for me is more of a chore, but a chore that makes me better in the end.
Like when you’re young, and you mom says “clean your room” and you mope and groan about it all day and all throughout the chore you’re contemplating how you can run away from this cruel person who makes you clean your room when clearly, controlled chaos is clearly the way you, in all your adolescent authority chose to live your life. When, maybe five or six hours later, you’re finally finished cleaning your room, you love that it is clean. It looks neat and organized and, whether you chose to admit it or not, you’re happy your room is clean. That’s how I feel about running. Before and during the run, all I do is complain and search for a way out of running, but after my run, I feel amazing. There’s a rush that goes through me that is unparalleled by anything that isn’t running.
This is why I need motivation. If my motivation for cleaning my room was I would have a clean room, that wasn’t enough. I needed a bigger reward. With running, these sentiments are paralleled. I want a trophy or something, not the hot smelly sweaty mess called my body that I have to deal with as a result of my pain. I feel like I will learn from these runners highs. I will learn that the runners high is the reward.