Dear Running ... It’s Not You, It’s Me ...
Running I’m not breaking up with you. We’re just ON a break. It’s not you ... it’s me.
Well actually it’s Plantar Fasciitis ...
We were so happy, you and I, Running. We’d spend hours together, in the sunshine, in the rain, in the mud and occasionally in the snow. We had our ups and downs (in Yorkshire and Beacon Hill were the main ones) but we were happy. I fed you trainers, you gave me the ability to eat inhuman amounts of food. It was a good partnership.
But I noticed things weren’t the same. We’d go out together and SHE would be there. Plantar Fasciitis – getting between us. Making our time together not quite so much fun. We started to spend less time on the road, we even switched to trails and hidden footpaths but she’d still find us.
I guess I could always hop, but it wouldn’t be the same. It wouldn’t be you. It wouldn’t be Running.
I know people have mentioned Triathlon, but I’d never do that to you, Running. There IS no-one else. I know you saw a cycle helmet the other day and a carelessly discarded pair of goggles, but they weren’t mine (cough, avoids eye contact) they must have been my roommates’ ...
Anyway, let’s not apportion blame. Plantar Fasciitis did this to us. Not me, not triathlon.
I’m sure I’ll see you around. I mean, I’ve got races booked, ultra marathons even ... but I think it’sjust best we have a break for a bit.
(Slams door, footsteps and muffled sobbing is heard)