Why

I figured out last night on the way home from the gym what my deal is with the running. Some of it, at least.

Some of it is the idea of pushing myself physically. Part of me has always wanted to be an 'athlete', or is fascinated by those who are. [I've always dated/was infatuated with jocks and athletes.] I never thought I had it in me, and I've never really known my limits. I didn't think I had the drive. As an equestrian, I could get on a horse and know 'I can do this and other people can't'. I haven't been on a horse in almost two years. Now I know when I get up in the morning that I CAN run a mile and a half - I can count on my body to do it. Every day. A year ago, I couldn't count on my body to get me across the street. I was sickly; I felt and looked it. I feel good when I leave the gym. I'm starting to realize that it's not just vanity that drives people to work out, run and lift weights... it's more internal. I also feel more in tune with my body... as if working every muscle reminds me that they're all there, and what they're up to. If something's wrong, I know it right away, versus just the general ache/hum of things in working order.

The other part of the equation is warped... but I think it's about being the complete opposite of what I was when I was with John. While we were together, the relationship was the single most important thing in my life. His happiness (or lack thereof) was The Big Deal. Everything else took a backseat. Now I fill my time with lots of vitally important factors - friends, family, work, my cat, volunteering, writing, music, exercise ... there's a noticeable lack of romantic relationships, but I've strengthened everything else. I worry less about the happiness of others (though definitely not completely forgotten) and more about my own. My lifestyle was also unhealthy - together we ate crappy food (and too much of it), didn't exercise, smoked, drank, sat on our butts. Going for a bike ride or hike was something we would do maybe tomorrow - when we weren't so tired. I've cut almost all of that out. Every time I get on the treadmill (no matter how tired) and start to run, it reminds me of how far I've come from what I was 7 months ago. I'm proud of what I've rebuilt from the pieces of me that were left after the crash, and I think the new me is stronger, better, prettier, smarter, harder, healthier. It's the new version - Becky 7.0. As I run and watch my reflection in the glass as the sun sets, it's a reminder.