I jog. I jog so I can eat cake. I’m not kidding.
I’m a slow, steady runner. I jog between an 11-minute mile and a 12-minute mile. I jog five times a week and I love it.
But here’s the weird part: Sometimes I cry.
The triggers tend to be so sporadic and unrelated to one another, I’m not sure there is a trigger. They range all the way from a song, to a podcast, to a story on the news, to smelling someone’s treadmill fart, to nothing at all. The only regularity has to do with time. It always happens after the 20-minute mark.
I just cry.
I don’t feel unhappy. I just cry. And I know that some folks may roll their eyes at this next part, hell, I’m rolling my eyes just thinking about it, but is this what folks mean when they talk about reaching a level outside of oneself, (and because I can’t think of a less sophomoric word) is this some type of zen?
I’m not suggesting that I reach some major breakthrough, quite the opposite. I’m wondering if it’s one of the few times during my life, I am without thought. Do I run myself empty? Do I exist without care, responsibility or worth? Or is it simply that I have run off all the sugar coursing through my blood and I’m crying because my body needs more cake?
I just cry.
I try and hold back, because who wants to see a girl crying on a treadmill, but I get the feeling that if I let myself just go, like, become a blubbering mess, I’ll end up on the other side (going nowhere, mind you) different.
Whatever the reason may be, sometimes when I jog, I cry.