On Exercise

I have to run a lot, because I make myself do it, and I engage in a wide variety of mental activities to distract myself from the fact that I still have miles to go and I'm tired.  I considered the other day what makes someone decent at working out, or makes someone do it at all.  For me, and I speak only for me, I've found that its equal parts self loathing and self love.  I am running because I am not good enough, fast enough or strong enough.  Yet, I can finish the distance I set because I am powerful and able to do so.  It's a really strange balance that essentially equals optimistic masochism.