Well Nina, I’m gonna run until I can’t breathe, until I feel like I am going to puke and then I am going to push myself a bit harder. Because I am not going to be the woman who gives up anymore. The running lark is not easy, not by a long way and I’ve tried a few times to actually get off my butt and do the exercise “thing” that most normal people do and each time I’ve quit. Slunk away with flimsy excuses and even flimsier results. Not this time. Oh no siree bob.
My sins are many and varied. My sins have been accumulating since I was old enough to sin. But I also have been good. And kind. Loving, giving, helping, loyal, brave, supportive and a thousand other things besides. But one thing I have never been is threatened or threatening. And I’ve never felt the urge to run in anger or fear. I’ve run away from things, oh boy have I ever. I ran away from home at the age of 15 (I think) to the next village in a fit of childish petulance to a friend’s house where they promptly called my parents and I was picked up and taken home – to a well deserved telling off.
I then (metaphorically) ran away to Devon at the age of 18 to university. I wasn’t running away from my parents this time, but from my childhood. I ran into the arms of adventure, of sex, drugs (the odd joint) and debauchery with some amazing people. I ran away from university at 21 after a couple of epic years and then ran away home again from Manchester. And you guessed it, I then ran away back to Plymouth. Straight into the love of my life…who happened to be my then step-daughter. She rocked; as much as any 2 year old can. And she ran rings round me. I loved her completely and totally. For 2 1/2 blissful (well sort of) years I ran after her and loved it. And then her mother ran me out the house.
All that time though, I was running from myself…from the black dog that has dogged me since I was 16. Typically though, you don’t notice that dog until it bites you in the ass. And of course I kept on running. Running right on out of the South West and into the North East. Oh yes, I’m a runner alright. I’m also hopeless at running solo…until now. I have always been with someone, whether as a sibling or as a lover and I have always craved company. I put it down to being the eldest of 4 children but I think it might just be who I am. But I am finally learning to run solo and to enjoy it. I mentioned a couple of posts back I said I joined up to dating sites and despite a couple of fairly good profiles and 1 (just the one) message it has amounted to….zilch. Nothing. Nada. Niente. And this is a good thing.
I am supposed to run alone for a while. I am supposed to face my sins, one step at a time. I have to face my demons whether they are in food form or exercise form…or more recently in my head space. I will not let my demons chase me out the room and lurk around corners. I will be solo and I will not, as the great Nina sang, run to the Devil.