Running Epic

Dear Wal,

I had a momentary lapse. Yesterday was a busy day. This week has been a busy week. I've started running again to get in shape for cross country next semester (yes, it takes me that long to get in shape) and balancing running with blog and Buzzy (my completely adorable TWH gelding) has been difficult. Anyway, I've decided that today I shall rant about running.
First Day
You can't breath. You can't think. Your legs feel like they are going to burst into flames and then fall off and die a horribly over-dramatic death. Indeed, you almost fall to the ground and die right then and there, writhing in pain and making unnatural wheezing sounds. You don't make it far. The first hill approaches and you just give up and walk. If you're brave (or stupid, depending) then you may make it more than a mile, but most of your concentration beyond that point will be focused on simply staying upright. Afterward, you sit staring blankly, watching with the gaze of someone who has seen death and won, and drink several gallons of water. The rest of your day goes like this: Food. Sleep.
Second Day
The soreness is debilitating. You can barely walk, and these crazy idiots want you to run? You spend twenty minutes warming up in the hope that it will help with the pain of your impending doom. Then you start running. At first, your legs scream in pain and refuse to cooperate, but you beat them into submission with your iron will and continue on. Your breathing comes a little easier, allowing you to focus on making your legs maintain at least a jog, they imply ninja skills you never knew they had to attempt to slip down to a walk when you aren't noticing. They quiet down for a while and go numb, until you hit that first hill again. Then they revert to their highly useless over-dramatic screaming, but you make it up the hill and a little father this time. You are tired but optimistic by the time you get back. You drink several gallons of water again. You may actually talk to someone. Food. Sleep.
Third Day
Your optimism was in vein. You thought yesterday's stiffness was bad, but now you realize you have never experienced real pain until this day. No amount of warming up can prepare you for the ordeal to come. You start running and this time the pain doesn't recede. You can see your grave ahead of you on the trail at the top of that ever-defiant hill. Then suddenly your muscles gather their courage and you manage to make it through with a minimal amount of mental beatings. The numbness comes, but slowly this time, and you may actually make it through the entire distance you were originally trying to run. You come away in even higher spirits, if not a little delirious from joy and pain. Water. Food. Sleep.
Fourth Day
The soreness isn't as bad today. You can actually walk. Problem is, no matter how many hours you slept last night, you're dead on your feet and you can barely keep your eyes open. Warm-up gets your blood flowing a little and your muscles actually cooperate when you start running, but you're too tired. Your mind wanders. Your breathing gets out of check, you find yourself running to fast or to slow, and then you reach that blasted hill. You know you can do it. You've done it two days in a row. The question today is do you really want to expend the energy and the willpower to make it up the hill? You still haven't decided by the time you reach the hill, and either you slow down with a feeling of utter disappointment in yourself and general despair or you manage to somehow power through it with some last reserve of fantastic strength you didn't know you had. Water. Food. Sleep.
Fifth Day
Your muscles have been enduring physical and verbal abuse from your iron will, and today you decide they need a break. You run the easy route, or maybe just take that hill at a slower pace. You make it all the way through the course without much protest from your muscles and with warmth in your heart that you've actually accomplished something, that despite the hardship you've suffered this past week you made it, you conquered like a boss. Alternately, you may end up running for a little bit and then realize that that wonderful, glorious reservoir of strength that you drew on yesterday is empty; bone dry with a tumbleweed to boot. You fail instantly and spend the rest of the course walking and in the depths of despair. Lets just say the following weekend isn't a good one.

The first week is over. I survived. Success.

/endrant