Every few years I change drastically. For better or worse, I reinvent myself as if it’s a new hairdo. Post earth-shattering low, I overhaul my life replacing the materialistic junk with attributes I believe will save me from renewing the cycle of depression-pulling myself out of the trenches-long, public drawn out road to blissful happiness.
I’ve been an emo, warped-tour going goth kid. I’ve had a church phase. I’ve been a fearless, party-hopping under-ager. I’ve poured my heart, soul, and youthful legs into becoming the best runner I can be. I’ve been caught somewhere in-between myself, who I wish I was, and the woman I’m becoming. I’ve evolved and I’ve regressed. I’ve moved away and I’ve moved back. For better or worse, I’m ever changing.
I’m not sad or mad. I’m a 25 year old discovering myself. I’m (somewhat) normal. I despise the thought of living at home, yet that’s the first place I call when I’m having a rough day. I want to live as if I’ve just been told I only have 6 more weeks of life, but with a job that offers health insurance, a 401K, and paid vacation. I want complete autonomy, yet an incredible support system so I never feel lonely again.
I know I’m a runner, I’m pretty sure I came running out of the womb. I’ll never quit; someday I’ll be the overly-fit mom pushing a double stroller past you in the local 5K. But the journey I’m on now has very little to do with running and everything to do with who I am beyond it.
PS- I’m hurt and taking a little breaksy and trip to PHX to figure it out. Most likely it’s a plantar fasciitis, a stress reaction of the calcaneus, poor ankle flexion, and posterior tibial tendonitis. Nothing that John Ball and a few weeks off can’t fix. I’ll be back at it in no time!