  I have never loved the actual act of running; it is hard, it often burns, and I have thrown up on several occasions. There is just something so terrificly self-righteous about off-handedly saying, "When I was running five miles the other day...", not to mention the masochist's pleasure I get out of running until I nearly pass out. I'm not even a good runner! I am slow and I run like a flamboyant gay man (picture pointed toes and strange leaps) Nonetheless, I do it. And out of the struggle I find that I like myself a hell of a lot more when I am in good running shape. There is an anatomy of a good run that I am unable to pin down into words. "Why the hell am I running?
I bet Bridget Jones' Diary is on Starz right now..." slowly morphs into "I-think-I-Can!". Then comes the best part, the Eye of the Tiger theme song, the "I-Know-I-Can! " Saturdays bred good runs. And they also bred good thoughts. I feel completely ungulity about my love of the song Love Soon--"a song about talking to the person you haven't even met yet. Maybe they're rolling around in they hay with some one else, but they're not as good as you'll be. You just gotta wait your turn...he's out there, and they're just learning who to contrast you against. " (As proclaimed by the lovely John Mayer) My parents think it's weird, unhealthy, that I don't like to go anywhere on weekends. And who knows-- maybe it is. But I find it exhilarating. I go to school five crazy days of the week, and I only get two days to balance out my mood.
I need Saturdays and Sunday afternoons to simply breath. Sure going to a good movie is fun, and hanging out with friends is beautiful. There also lies an equally great excitement to be had sitting around your house wondering at life's little happinesses. Affectionately... Anna 
