To wax spiritual and supremely cheesy, I'll add my two cents. A couple of weeks ago, I was reluctantly headed to the track to do a speed workout. The thought occurred to me that I could just skip it--no one would know, it probably wouldn't affect my time, I'm not getting paid for my time anyway, so why am I doing this?
I forced my way through the workout, but the thought has popped up a few times ever since. Until I read a nice little compilation of thoughts on Habit (came courtesy of brainpickings, a weekly email I get that's always a fun read and has some great book recommendations). To sum up, I run because it's a habit and thus has become a huge part of me, and I like what it's done to my life, in so many respects. Trying to run faster, while it brings me nothing temporally, has become almost a spiritual challenge--a reassurance that I can do hard things (my kids have heard this statement ad nauseum, ie every time they tell me something is hard). I'm a little nervous to see what would happen if I started skipping that.
That doesn't even really capture it for me, but that's a small part of why I run.
I forced my way through the workout, but the thought has popped up a few times ever since. Until I read a nice little compilation of thoughts on Habit (came courtesy of brainpickings, a weekly email I get that's always a fun read and has some great book recommendations). To sum up, I run because it's a habit and thus has become a huge part of me, and I like what it's done to my life, in so many respects. Trying to run faster, while it brings me nothing temporally, has become almost a spiritual challenge--a reassurance that I can do hard things (my kids have heard this statement ad nauseum, ie every time they tell me something is hard). I'm a little nervous to see what would happen if I started skipping that.
That doesn't even really capture it for me, but that's a small part of why I run.

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