So I did an 18km run today, off the back of an 8km run yesterday.
It was good. I felt strong throughout, even when the gels I took gave me watery diarrhoea.
I went out feeling “fuck yeah, I’m running 18km, how d’ya like that, bitches?”
That’s the thing about distance running. The whole managing discomfort thing, the whole rising up against it thing. It’s a rollercoaster.
The other aspects of my life are like that. Exhilarating highs. Harrowing lows. Just got to get through it.
Like in dating. Sometimes I wonder why I bother with dating.
In school, I never attracted the boys, so I just went on with schoolwork. It served a purpose, I suppose.
Now, I want to experience the full richness of life. Excitement, exhilaration, lust, love.
Most of these have come, but they are interspersed with low points. Points where I am sad, disappointed, points where I cry. They don’t last, but they make me want to step off the rollercoster. So I am, in my own way, for a moment. Just taking some time and opportunity to do those things that replenish myself. Laugh. Spend time with my friends. Concentrate on the less assailable things in my life. Lick my wounds. Let them heal.
