My dad has always been the motivation behind why I run. He got me hooked my sophomore year and I've never quit since. He's the reason behind Rangar and the races I've done. There are weeks where I get lazy and I just don't go. It's hard at 5 o'clock in the morning when everything is dark outside and all you can think about is being back in your warm bed sleeping. Your hands feel like they are going to fall off and no body is out yet because it's so early. While I run I often think, "why dad, why the heck did you get me roped into this?" But I love running. I love everything about it. I love the time it gets me to think about things that are going on in my life. I love the sore feeling I get after. I love the feeling of running away from what is bothering me and the emotions that are released when I run. I love those long runs where you can't get yourself to stop. I love the feeling like that I can accomplish anything after I run. I'm quite an addict sometimes. Half marathon this summer? I think yes.
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