I am not concerned about my calorie consumption for the day, nor am I anxious to get in shape for the winter season. I just want to go running。
I used to dislike running. If you dont win this game, youre all running five miles tomorrow, the field hockey coach used to warn, during those last days of October when the average temperature seemed to be decreasing exponentially. And so, occasionally, my grief-stricken team would run numerous miserable laps around the fields. At the end of these excursions, our faces and limbs would be numb, and we would all have developed those notorious flu-like symptoms; but the running made us better in the long run, I suppose. Nevertheless, I counted down the days until the end of the field hockey season, vowing never to put on a pair of running shoes again. Then I surprised myself by signing up for outdoor track in the second half of sophomore year. I was foolish to have believed that I could ever escape this insidious and magnetic addiction。
Anyone would have thought that Id be off the team in a few days, but the last week of January caught me splashing through puddles of melted ice, and February winds nearly blew me off the track. I looked forward to practices this time around, to the claps and the persistent cheers of my fellow trackies. I was feeling a runners high spurred by the endorphins released by exercise. But to attribute my affinity for running solely to chemistry diminishes the personal importance that running has for me。
