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On Running

So I have been jogging with my dog in the morning on weekends for about six months.

She is an energetic dog, and seems to like it.

I, on the other hand, absolutely hate it.

Despite that, I've stuck with it, waiting for all the numerous benefits to kick in.

I don't feel more energy, in fact, jogging puts me in a foul mood for the rest of the day.

More discouraging, it isn't getting any easier.

Sure at first, I was sore in some weird leg muscles I hadn't used, mostly the ones that allow you to walk down steps without looking geriatric.

But that has gone away. No soreness at all afterwards now.

No, the problem is that the latter part of my run, I feel like I am being asphyxiated.

It is highly unpleasant. So unpleasant that my thoughts during that period of the run turn pretty dark. Where I start enumerating the things I'd rather be doing.

Safe to say, if "cutting scars into your skin with a razor blade" was suddenly discovered to be good for you, I would be there an instant. Not joking. I would 100% seriously prefer carving my flesh to feeling like I am being choked to death.

I do other exercises like kettle bells, that get as intense, that make my arms, legs and muscles burn, and I don't hate that in the same way.

Worse, is my jogging run is *so* short compared to what everyone does. I only jog one mile. It is pathetic.

In my school days, the thing I spent the year fussing about was the coming "mile run", as I hated it even then, for very similar reasons. Even in middle school, where I eventually began being able to run the mile in under "Presidentical Fitness Standards" dictated, I still fucking hated it so much.

It quickly becomes a battle of wills to see how much oxygen deprivation I can mentally force upon myself. So you see where my metaphor of self-torture with razor blades comes in. Somehow it is worse when it *you* having to torture yourself "for your own good".

The thing I enjoy most about mornings, is my first cup of coffee. Jogging ruins that. I come back hot and sweaty, and it eliminates all pleasure from my hot bean juice for a good two hours afterwards, even after showering.

It seems like just a cop out to blame it on physiology, but I have to honestly wonder if I just have a fundamental problem with my lungs that makes this activity unsuitable for me. Occam would frown on that, as there are no other activities I can't perform, so his Razor would probably just point to me being a whiny bitch.

That, or perhaps like food, art and beauty, everyone has different opinions and levels of appreciation for different exercise types.

Which said, god damn do I fucking hate jogging.