I love running.
I really do.
In fact, I'm confident in saying that you don't run 50 miles a week just to stay in shape. You have to love something about it. There has to be some sort of love, passion or mutual respect to get you out there day in and day out.
So, obviously, I love running.
But, there has always been something that has eluded me when it came to the run ...
The love of running solo.
I hate running solo. I hate it so much that I would rather run 22 miles on a treadmill than log even three miles outdoor by myself. I find no peace in it. I don't enjoy the quiet. That's not how I want to spend my "alone time". All I can think is, "Dear God, let this be over already." It just doesn't work for me.
Do you know what I really love to do solo?
Swim. (and bike, if we're being honest.)
On Saturday, I made the jump to 3200 meters. You know, two miles. On November 30th, I swam 200 meters, confident that I was going to drown. Now, I can swim two miles. That's pure insanity. So crazy, that when I got home, J said, "You could do an Ironman," and I replied, "Yup. One day." (Still not sure if he realizes how serious I am about training for a full).
But other than helping me realize how far I have come in such a short time, my swim on Saturday proved something else. As I was swimming along, all I could think about was how much I loved just what I was doing that very moment. How this is what other people feel about solo running. And how running has very likely lost me to triathlon for good.
I really love running.
I just really love swimming, biking and running more.