“I hate jogging. I despise the huffing, puffing, and gasps for breath. Plus, it’s bad for your knees.” That’s what I would have said a week ago (and have said for the past 10 years). But something has changed.
A few nights ago, I woke up from a very vivid dream. I was jogging in my dream (yuck! who wants to dream about that???). But it wasn’t the huffy-puffy kind of jogging I’m used to. It was power in my legs, wind through my hair, and exhilaration coursing through my body. It was feet bouncing off the pavement and a tirelessness that was incredible.
Then I awoke. And something in my brain had changed. I wanted to go out jogging. And so yesterday, a chilly I-want-hot-chocolate kind-of-day, I laced up my runners and jogged a little over 2 km. It wasn’t glorious. I didn’t float up and down the hills. I had to walk at times. And my lungs felt like exploding.
But I enjoyed it. And I want to go again. Right now. What is wrong with me???