Why do I run?

I ran an easy 4.25 this afternoon. It was snowing, a wet and slushy kind of snow. By the end of it my gloves were soaked and my legs were covered in mud. Afterwards I did 40 pushups, 100 crunches (even though I hate crunches. I just really wanted to complete a quest on Fitocracy), two sets of plank, and side plank. It was a good workout. Intense enough so I don't feel bad about eating so much chocolate today, but not too intense to leave me feeling wiped.

My boyfriend asked me why I run today. The short answer, and the true answer, is simply because it's fun. If I didn't enjoy it I wouldn't do it. I'm happy when I run. Even if I'm in a horrible mood, such as last week when my dog ran away in below zero wind chills, a good run will cheer me right up. Some people look miserable when running. Hell, I probably look miserable when running, too, with all the sweat, snot, and what have you. This is what most people look like when running.

But this is what I feel like on the inside.

I feel like I'm constantly smiling when I run.

Plus there are tons of health benefits to running. It can help with weight loss, improve your cardiovascular health, increase stamina and endurance, build leg muscle, so on and so forth.

But why do I really run? Sure, for all the reasons listed above. But honestly? It's when I feel like I'm doing something worthwhile with my life. My life has been full of mediocrity and failure. This is especially evident when compared to my high school friends. Four of us girls were so close in high school. Brenda just graduated and is searching for a 'real' job. Annie is currently in a Master's program. Jenn is graduated with her own business and getting married in June. And where am I? I'm a part time pizza manager. I failed out of my university, went to community college for one year, and am now about a year from graduating from the university. And I didn't get a wedding invitation.

I was a slacker in high school. I didn't take class seriously but passed all the tests with flying colors thanks to my good memory. I thought college would be different. I'd be surrounded by people like me, and I'd be challenged intellectually. But I was also a slacker in college. I thought that since class wasn't required it wouldn't be necessary. Then when I started falling behind I was afraid to reach out for help. I had always been yelled at for failing to play the role in high school whether role was student or proper young lady. Doing things wrong, or not doing things at all, always landed me in trouble. I thought my instructors and advisor in college would be mad at me for being an awful student. So I avoided them. I felt guilty. I slept a lot and cried for squandering opportunity. For three fucking years. It took me completely bottoming out to realize what I was doing wrong with my life.

But that's not who I am anymore. I'm studying hard, working and saving money. I'm not afraid to say 'help me' when it's needed. I'm still far behind, though, both in school and in life as a whole.

So I run. When I run I can forget my problems. Nothing matters for the next 8 miles. Nothing matters as I sprint around the track. Running makes me happy. Running makes me feel productive. I may not own a business, be engaged, or be writing a Master's thesis, but I can run. By the end of this year I'll have a marathon under my belt. 26.2 means something. It's an accomplishment. Amid failing out of college, an overpriced humanities degree, and a slave-wage manager position, at least I can take pride in what my body is capable of. Running makes me feel worthwhile.

If anyone asks, just tell them I do it for fun. Okay?