Love*etaH

Some days my feet would put Mercury to shame, carrying me effortlessly over miles and miles.

Some days my feet are made of lead and I find myself wishing Mizuno made a shoe with a turbo boost.

Some days my path is blocked with spacey, self-absorbed tourists and it feels like I put on double the mileage just weaving in between all of them.

Some days every person passes me with a smile and every child claps to cheer me on.

Some days the sky sparkles with the promise of summer and illuminates mountains, trees, and oceans in technicolor beauty.

Some days the sun is my tormenter, soaking my jersey, tearing up my eyes, and making my lips crack and bleed.

Some days every mile feels like ten and I swear I'll never run again.

Some days I feel like I could run home to Wyoming and still not be tired.

Some days I hate running.

Some days I love it.

And sometimes, those are the same days.