This conversation is also from my real life, a few months ago. My BF doesn’t understand my obsession with running, but he accepts that it is an important part of my life and is very supportive.
He picked me up after a particularly grueling long run. When he found me I had run 13.5 miles and then walked almost another mile waiting for him. I was sweaty, tired, and worn out. I gingerly climbed into his truck and he tut-tutted about how all this extra mileage this couldn’t possibly be good for me. And he’s probably right. I’m opening myself up for all types of injuries and pains as I train.
For me, running isn’t a means to an end. It isn’t about achieving a healthy or fit body. I love running (Well 85% of the time anyway). I love how it makes me feel: free, alive, strong, and young. When I finish a long run I feel like I’ve done something most people can’t. It makes me feel powerful and in control. And sometimes I can’t walk.
Obviously there are some runs that are better than others, but this is the feeling I strive for. When it isn’t fun anymore, I’ll find something else to do.