When did running become my therapy?

  I had a really frustrating day today. It’s been one more in series of frustrating weeks. At the end of it all my thoughts were circling in a maelstrom, the sort that’s going to break its way out by shouting or crying.
  Instead I changed, set my watch, and pounded the pavement all the way home.
  When I’m running I don’t have to think about anything else. When I’m done there’s one thing I can feel good about that day. When I’m done I’m out of energy, dirty, and disheveled. I hurt, but strangely, I look forward to doing it all over again.
  Writing about this, even indirectly, feels a bit strange. Vulnerable, because I’ve invited people to this forum with whom I might not otherwise discuss this sort of thing.
  I’ve been having a hard time lately. I’ve been feeling a little lost and a little hopeless. I’m working on changing this through work and will, but in the meantime it’s nice to be able to lose myself in something, even for a little while.

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