I miss running. I miss my feet pounding the pavement. I miss coming back from a lunch run soaked in sweat. I miss pushing myself to the end of my run, imagining my sister on the finish line cheering me on, dreaming what it will be like to wear a half-marathon medal around my neck. I miss the strength in my legs and my well-defined ankles. I miss exploring different paths around campus, seeing the side of the road from a different point of view, having an excuse to carbo load. I miss running with my brother in the early morning, even if he breezes past me, because I know he'll always run that last 1/4 mile with me. I miss running sprints.
I'm jealous of the people I see running on the side of the road and on the paths. I'm jealous of my friends running races, buying new shoes because they've hit their mileage, hitting new mileage goals. I'm jealous at the ease people can step out onto the road and go.
I hate my flat feet and my damaged SI joints and my floppy ankles and turned-in knees. I hate that it will take months to correct 28 years of walking incorrectly. I hate that it will require braces and orthotics and stretching exercises.
I just want to be normal. I just want to RUN.
I'm jealous of the people I see running on the side of the road and on the paths. I'm jealous of my friends running races, buying new shoes because they've hit their mileage, hitting new mileage goals. I'm jealous at the ease people can step out onto the road and go.
I hate my flat feet and my damaged SI joints and my floppy ankles and turned-in knees. I hate that it will take months to correct 28 years of walking incorrectly. I hate that it will require braces and orthotics and stretching exercises.
I just want to be normal. I just want to RUN.
