The Price

Right now, I have compound blisters on the side of my big toes, the balls of my feet, and on the sides of the arches of my feet.

I have scabs on my back from where my bra has rubbed through the skin.

I have knots coiled in my traps and neck from where my bra straps sit, making it painful to turn my head.

My leg muscles are perpetually exhausted, strained, and whining.

Last week, I did 30 miles total. It was too much; my body nearly went on strike. I could do it without dying, obviously, but now it does not want to do anything else.

Yet I keep going back for larger doses. More frequently. Like any addict.

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About ChrstnaBergling

Colorado-bred writer, Christina Bergling knew she wanted to be an author in fourth grade. In college, she pursued a professional writing degree and started publishing small scale. With the realities of paying bills, she started working as a technical writer and document manager, traveling to Iraq as a contractor and eventually becoming a trainer and software developer. She avidly hosted multiple blogs on Iraq, bipolar, pregnancy, running. In 2015, she published two novellas. She is also featured in the horror collection Collected Christmas. Bergling is a mother of two young children and lives with her family in Colorado Springs. She spends her non-writing time running, doing yoga and barre, belly dancing, taking pictures, traveling, and sucking all the marrow out of life. View all posts by ChrstnaBergling

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