I’ve started running. Well I’ve done it three times so far and am getting increasingly better. I lap around our apartment’s block three times. At first it was mostly walking, but now I can do two laps of running with one walking. Interestingly enough, memories flood my consciousness as I run, mostly pertaining to elementary school where we would do mandatory mile-runs in gym. I remember my blond gym teacher towering over me and insisting that I keep running. I could feel my lungs shrinking, muscles in my airway constricting and tried to relate this to her through shaky breaths of air. She retorted with three well-reasoned arguments: asthma was no excuse to quit; she had it when she was my age; and I can’t make excuses my entire life.
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