I catch myself choosing silence.
My go-to shell.
Maybe I said too much. <--(Constant regret.)
A question I continuously ask myself.
And Heinz.
"Did I say too much? Was that ok that I said that?"
I mean.
That's how I felt.
I'm in my head a lot.
In my space.
And I don't mean that as a bad thing.
Except when I need to step out.
Running helps.
Running has always helped.
Until I robbed the fun out of it.
By making it measurable.
Made running quantifiable.
Yet it is.
It was a conversation I needed to have.
With myself.
What is running? <-- (for me.)
That is why I stopped sharing about it.
What was there to say about running if it wasn't about pr's and races.
Could I talk about running without the numbers.
Yeah I could.
I thought it would be boring.
But boring is ok.
Sometimes boring is only a stage.
A thing to overcome.
And then it's fun again.
Running should not be boring.
It may be.
It should not.
But it can.
Then you make it fun.
Because you love it.
You want to make it work.
And it surprises you.
Running always surprises me.
And if you stay with it.
If I keep going.
Forward.
Moving.
And then you start.
All over again.
Making a start line out of the front door.
Each time I head out to run.
I'm saved.
.
