No one promised you universal justice you know

It never ceases to amaze me the tourtue that we as runners put ourselves through.
Furthermore, it never ceases to amaze my friends and family. What's funny is, there was a point in time where I too did not understand the complex and mysterious thoughts that went on in a runners brain that made them so blindly dedicated to the sport. I used to have conversations with Larry about running and walk away totally perplexed as to why anyone would want to put their bodies through such pain. And then I woke up one day and I didn't realize how the rest of the world couldn't see it our way.
I recently put myself back on an internet personal site, to see if there are any interesting single people in this city becuase let's face it everyone I know at work is married and who am I going to meet running? I made quite sure to include in my profile that I am a runner to see if there was anyone out there who shared my mindset. Much to my disappointment many people would email me telling me they were also runners, yet what they meant were they were short distance fair weather runners. When I brought the fact that I did an eight mile run on a sunday morning despite the fact that it was raining, and also that I had run the day before, they did not understand what could possibly prompt a human being to do such a thing.
What's funny is that after that same Sunday run I had possibly the worst bought of stomach discomfort and nausea I can remember having that did not come about as a result of either menstrual cramps or tequila. I spent the rest of the day on the couch curled in a ball eating nothing more than an English muffin. Aynyone who has ever run more than eight miles should know that one English muffin is not enough calories to make up for all that effort. But I have an unexplainable huge fear of throwing up, thus I was not going to chance it. However when I woke up later that night with unbelievable stomach pains could only guess it was becuase I was hungry. So at one in the morning I stumbled around my kitchen looking for something that would not potentially kill my stomach. toast. perfect. and not wanting to eat in bed I sat down to find there is not a single good thing on tv at one am on a Monday morning. except will and grace.
Now due to the fact that I had felt sick from the second I stopped running I had not even made the attempt at stretching out my over worked body. So when my alarm went off at six am I was not only tired, but more sore than I can remember being after a fifteen miler.
So I did what any sane person would do. I called in sick to work, slept until ten, and ate breakfast while watching daytime tv.
and then went out for a run.