While over the years you and I have become more connected than I thought possible—you have certainly made me a stronger runner—I feel that it may be time for us to see other people.
Just the other day as I ran up your spine, huffing and puffing, I found myself inconsolably exasperated. You have drained me, mentally and physically. This fatigue makes it hard to appreciate what you’ve done for me.
With every climb, I gain strength from you. The chisel and curves in my strong legs are in part thanks to your steep ascent. But I am exhausted! My legs ache and beg for reprieve from this abusive relationship.
You are admitedly alluring. I love your tree-lined paths and your breathtaking views, but I long to stride through flat lands and wind around trails without an incline or decline in sight.
Maybe I simply need a break from your daily mockery of a body that could be stronger. Perhaps the answer to our woes is in an open relationship. However, I should be honest and confess that I’ve been cheating on you with Mr. Treadmill; he gives me things that you cannot.
I hope you can forgive me, but my legs have grown weary. And I need a day off—a rest day—from your complicated rise and falls.
P.S. I’ll see you tomorrow—same time, same place.