It is early mornings and peanut butter.
It’s slipping on ice and sweating to death.
It’s feeling like you can’t breathe and wishing your legs would fall off.
It’s sticking it out on the treadmill and pushing through bad runs.
There is no off-season, no one to cheer you on at 5:00 a.m, and no cure for your hunger.
When it comes down to it, running is whatever you want it to be, whatever you need to be, and whatever you have in you.