Running saved my life and keeps doing it. It’s been five years since I took up constant running. I had my share of accidents, ups and downs in stamina, I made beginner mistakes even after three years. Sometimes, running means blood, blisters, fallen nails and muscle or joint pain. All things considered, I never ended a run, no matter how long or hard, with the thought that I wouldn’t do it all over again the next day. Perhaps it’s Stockholm syndrome and I’ve grown attached to my aggressor, I have no idea, perhaps this aggressor helped me leave behind dozens of pounds, countless dark thoughts and countless good thoughts as well. I think that I run because I like the metaphor of it. It’s all good, but the right thing to do is to leave it all behind when time comes.