The Runner

I’m a runner.

Yup. I just said that. Funny thing…it took me not being able to run anymore to admit that I’m a runner. Prior to an injury I’m trying to recover from I would say, “No! I’m not a runner! I RUN, but I’m not a runner. I just like food.” <—–Now, don’t get me wrong…I DO like food and that’s a really big incentive for me to go run…but…Physically…I AM a runner.

However, I am also another kind of runner.

I have a history of being an emotional runner.

I never run away from circumstances. I face them head on. Always. I never run from my own feelings. Again…faced head on. I never run away from people in my life who hurt me without giving them absolutely EVERY POSSIBLE CHANCE (oftentimes way too many chances). But…when I’m dealing with something in my life that is hurting me…I run from everyone.

Because if I run then it won’t hurt when they do.

I could make a lot of excuses for it. Yes, there have been a lot of people in my life who were always supposed to be there…and then they weren’t. Family…friends…exes. When I’m hurting it’s easy for me to fall back on the mindset of, “Everyone leaves and I am, apparently, very easy to walk away from.”

But…reality check…who HASN’T had that happen in their life? What makes me so different on that front where I have the right to use it as a crutch?

NOTHING.

And yet…as I deal with this injury…and I try to deal with the fact that, right now, I’m not a runner. ..I fight these feelings. All of my friends are still runners. All of my friends can still do all of these amazing things…and they do…without me…I don’t belong. No one will want me to come back even once I can. I have nothing to offer people if I can’t run with them. Look how happy they are without me…I should just stay gone…

And so I’ve gone back to being the bad kind of runner.

And it becomes a spiral. I have the feelings of not belonging and fighting my own feelings of not having what is, truly, an anxiety/stress relieving activity (as the great Elle Woods said, “Exercise gives you endorphins. Endorphins make you happy. Happy people don’t shoot their husbands. They just don’t.”). So I start to withdraw. Which makes me feel more like I don’t belong. So I start to get a little…let’s be honest…bitchy. Which makes feel more like I don’t belong and like why could anyone POSSIBLY want me to come back??? Hell, I don’t even want to hang out with me right now!

It’s a never ending running cycle. Like a treadmill from Hell.

But it needs to stop. Now.

So. This blog is the kick I need to give myself in my own ass. My friends love me. Honestly, I have never in my life had the kind of friends that I have now…that I know love me even at my worst. And I owe it to them not to be the bad kind of runner.

Besides…what’s the point of being any kind of runner that doesn’t earn me ice cream?