I respect fit runners and I respect overweight runners. I respect fast runners and I respect slow runners. I respect people who run 5 miles and I respect people who run 25 miles. I respect people who run in group and I respect solo runners. I respect shirtless runners and I respect fully clothed runners. I respect walkers, joggers, and sprinters. I respect female runners and I respect male runners. I respect young runners and I respect old runners. I respect winter, spring, summer, fall runners. My point is this: the first step out the front door is the hardest, and I respect anyone who takes it.
“The problem is that you don’t just choose recovery. You have to keep choosing recovery, over and over and over again. You have to make that choice 5-6 times each day. You have to make that choice even when you really don’t want to. It’s not a single choice, and it’s not easy.”—Marya Hornbacher (via reinventingmelena)
"Some very sick girl once told me that “recovery gives you nothing but weight.” For a long time, I believed it. But now, I know better. Recovery gives you years. Kisses and hugs. Girls nights. Good sex with someone you adore. Bad sex with someone you don’t love. Recovery can give you sad tears, and leave you laying on the bathroom floor wishing you were dead. But it can also give you deep belly laughs, eating ice cream with your best friends. It gives you your soul back, returning life to your body. Recovery fixes your life, you just have to choose it.”
So, fuck you. I chose recovery and I chose to live. I didn’t JUST gain weight.