I despise everything about running. I hate the New York City Marathon, which bisects my neighborhood every year, making my commute to work or any theoretical trips to the emergency room completely impossible. I hate people who are constantly posting about running over on Facebook, casually humblebragging about how they fit in a “quickie 5K” between picking up the dry cleaning and the children.
This was and still is kind of me. I run now, used to hate it, and hated the culture around it. But now I run. Still alone, not in a crowd with cheering bystanders and cheap swag. But I run, and I like it. By myself.