Born To Run

In 2019, my body became a walking cancel culture.

I now envision my younger self as a new can of pop, shaken constantly by the conservative, white, hetero hands gripping them. Crash diets, bad boyfriends, divorced parents, an unruly adolescence.

As training season continued, I joked that all I did was run and work. In reality, I ran, worked, ranted about sobriety, and went to therapy twice a week. The miles began to stack up, and suddenly I was doing nine without stopping.