Yestreday I realized that I don’t actually want to run a half marathon. It’s not like I couldn’t, if I trained up for it. I’ve done the distance before. Heck, I even entered the City to Surf half marathon in Perth with every intention of running it until I broke my foot a couple of months before the race. And it’s not like I don’t think running a half marathon would be a great achievement. It’s just that I don’t really like running. There are people who talk about how much they love to run and how awesome it feels. I am not one of those people. To me anything after 1km is just boring. I can usually manage 5km without it feeling like too much of a drag, and 10km is pushing my limit. But anything over that is just so dull. For me, it feels awesome at the end - looking at your time and seeing how much you’ve improved or how far you’ve run. It’s a matter of balancing the lack of enjoyment I get during the run with the enjoyment I get afterwards. And of course, afterwards, you remember the run as being great because the sense of completion makes it feel great. You conveniently forget that it was dull torture at the time - until the next run.