Running.

You hate it. Your friends hate it. You shudder at the sound of its simple two syllables. You shun the girl who asks if you want to join her on a run. You’d much rather do some horizontal running (shout out to my girl Fat Amy), maybe with some chips and guac to keep it interesting. It’s much better than blasting your music through your earbuds loud enough to block out the haunting noise of the treadmills buzzing throughout the gym.

I used to be you, and I’m here to reassure you that it does get better. In fact, I couldn’t even walk up the hill of my driveway without gasping for air, and now I love running.

Freshman year of high school, I decided to join the track team as a sprinter since I knew I could barely run a mile to begin with and would most likely die if I decided to pursue long distance. I am probably the worst sprinter you will ever meet. That being said, I enjoyed track and wanted to continue the following year, but as a distance runner. I decided to run all summer and make it a goal to be able to run at least four consecutive miles before the start of the track season. I ran six days a week (okay, okay—sometimes I slipped up), gradually increasing in distance.

Did I always feel like running? No.

Was it always enjoyable? No. In fact, I felt as if I was constantly gasping for air.

However, I was running so consistently, that my warm-ups soon became my workouts.

I wasn’t the fastest, but I was able to build up the endurance to push further.

In fact, running became so habitual to the point that it was nonchalant. Rather than gasping for air, I was floating on pavement.

We often dislike what we aren’t good at because we feel ashamed of ourselves while doing it. I hated running prior to that summer because it was probably the furthest I could get from my comfort zone. The discomfort from my lungs expanding outside of their boundaries; the embarrassment from how heavily I had been breathing in front of girls who were still able to maintain composure; the pain in my shins that couldn’t handle the repetitive slamming against the cement sidewalks—these collectively contributed to why I loathed running. Yet without these feelings, I would not have appreciated the bliss that came with accomplishing those four consecutive miles, and then building more upon that distance at the start of the track season.

There’s the familiar phrase, “Don’t knock it ‘til you try it.” Nothing could be more accurate—don’t knock the idea of running until you actually stick with it. As long as you are consistent, it will become easier, and you will begin to feel pride in your accomplishments. It will become so habitual, that you will crave it.

You will soon wake up in the morning, see the sun shining through your window, and feel the urge to put on your sneakers and enjoy the weather. Rather than gasping for air, it will become a time to reflect and free any constraints on your mind.

Running.

You love it. Your friends love it. You’re the girl who asks others if they want to join you on a run.