I believe many runners would agree” ― Haruki Murakami, “So I am not a broken heart. I am muscles building cells, a little every day, because they broke that day,but bones are stronger once they heal and I am smiling to the bus driver and replacing my groceries once a week and I am not sitting for hours in the shower anymore.
I am not the weight I lost or miles or ran and I am not the way I slept on my doorstep under the bare sky in smell of tears and whiskey because my apartment was empty and if I were to be this empty I wanted something solid to sleep on. I am the way a life unfolds and bloom and seasons come and go and I am the way the spring always finds a way to turn even the coldest winter into a field of green and flowers and new life.
Running is all about having the desire to train and persevere until every fiber in your legs, mind, and heart is turned to steel.
And when you've finally forged hard enough, you will have become the best runner you can be.
The joy was in the act of running and in the journey, not in the destination.
We have a better chance of seeing where we are when we stop trying to get somewhere else.
My GF  and I  have had a few pretty deep discussions about what having a healthy relationship means to us.
We both come from pretty bad previous marriages, she's been divorced 2 years after 5 year marriage, and I have been divorced almost 1 year after an 11 year marriage.
There are so many great responses it's very hard to pick out just a few to note.
I am not your fault.” ― Charlotte Eriksson tags: apartment, bones, break-up, broken, cold, day, drinking, drunk, empty, every-day, flowers, green, growing, healing, health, heart, hours, inspiration, inspiring, life, losing, lost, love, miles, new-beginning, new-day, new-life, new-start, night, night-sky, return, running, sad, seasons, shower, sky, spring, strong, stronger, tears, the-glass-child, this-year, tumblr-writer, unfolds, week, weight, whisky, winter, youth “Running isn't a sport for pretty boys...
It's about the sweat in your hair and the blisters on your feet.
When my friends were short I pretended that I was short too and if my friend was sad I pretended to be unhappy.
I pretended to read slowly so I could "wait" for everyone else who couldn't read as fast as I could!