Pecan Pie

Social Anxiety from the South



I run slow.

I run fat.

I run awkwardly.

But, I know, so long as I wake up, lace up and walk out, I am a runner.

I put one foot in front of the other.

I am not on the couch.

I am miles.

I am worn tread.

I am a spirit broken and kneaded as sweatdrencheddoughnotpoundingthepavement, but beat up by it.

I am every runner I see; every 5k, 10k, 13.1, 26.2, runnergirl car magnet I pass…that is me.

I am high-fiving you on the trail.

I am beer drinking at the finish line.

I am #runchat.

I am heartbroken.

I am Devastation.

Running is one of the best things I decided to do, that I always knew how to do, that made me feel good.

Runners are the most amazing community of people I’ve ever (mostly not) met.

I can BE fat.

They don’t care.

I can BE slow.

I’m not in the couch.

I can barely crack 3 hours in a half.

They think it’s amazing I finished.

I am a runner.


Written by thelittlepecan

April 15, 2013 at 6:00 pm

Posted in Running

Tagged with , , ,

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