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After a truly bullshitty day, a head clearing, sweat inducing run is one of the only things (other than a cool glass of wine) that helps me to unwind.  And rather than lay day on the Dr.’s couch and spill all my problems, I run.  Running is my therapy.  While it may not be as medically effective, it’s a lot cheaper.  Plus, when did you ever lose weight laying on a couch?

My highschool gym teacher is scoffing somewhere.  I did, afterall, convince her that crunches were only making my stomach bigger.  So, the thought of me exerting myself voluntarily is probably mind boggling.  I am well aware that 90% of the population would probably rather push a burning boulder of poo up a hill both ways before running… on purpose.  The hardest part of running is putting on your sneakers and hitting the pavement (or treadmill).  I certainly can’t make that part any easier, but a booty shaking playlist will most certainly help (and that I can do).

And yes, there is a little Bieber in the mix.  If that’s wrong, I don’t wanna be right.

xx,

WhyDid