Racing down my street, feet pounding asphalt.
My lungs hurt, I am far from my true bliss.
My time is finally up, I quickly halt.
I hate running. Why'd I even do this?
I know that I'm supposed to exercise.
But why does it have to be so tiring?
People say it makes you healthy and wise.
I haven't found it quite as inspiring.
It grows on me slowly, day after day.
My anxiety lessens with each sprint,
I slowly inch towards my goal of a 5k.
But I pushed too hard, and suffered shin splints.
Now, I must walk past my running shoes' call.
Maybe I didn't hate running at all.