I am trying to become addicted to running. At least that is what is promised. The people I know that like to run are some of the greatest people I know. So it was only a matter of time, I guess, for Clyde to "suggest" that I train to run a half marathon. With Robin 'the machine" Rae to crack the whip. I am always looking for a reason to live, and this seems really good since I will be occupied until next January. So I have begun.
It kind of sucks and kind of feels good. Mostly good, I think. I like that I am doing something that is good for me as opposed to my complete inward destruction as of late. I like that I am doing the most unlikely thing that a Karen like me would do. It's like I'm sticking it to the man. Sort of. I am insane enough to rebel against myself. And it may make my butt look better. Wins all around.
I have no illusions of making a Nike commercial for mature runners. I doubt even this whole addiction talk. But in a masochistic way, I am changing my world. I am doing the opposite of what I want to do which is cry, drink, and sleep. And cry. And flip shit over. I am outside and sweating. I am trying. Yes, I will admit to doing this solely for Clyde and Robin. I have promised to complain the whole time. There is not much I wouldn't do for either of them.Throw in Johnny Mason, and I'll rob a bank. Actually that would be easier. But life's not easy now, is it? So I will keep going, and in a small way I will maybe cultivate hope in me. I have none, you see. Thank you to my dear friends for loving me. It's why I am even writing this. A little Bird called and suggested it.
Thank you all for the prayers and love.
