sight isn’t always necessary

I hate sports. I hate weight, I hate fitness, I hate everything that has anything to do with wellness and being healthy. I try these things – I try eating healthy foods, working out, running, taking vitamins. I try them all with the attitude that this new adventure will work for me and that my quality of life will improve with them. In fact, since April, I have made a point to seriously work on my running effort, and I’ve gotten pretty far in the battle. Something shitty happened though, and so fuck it. I’m going to smoke. I can’t fucking run this stupid fucking race in October, and I’m pissed off beyond belief about it. My ankle is right now the size of my knee, and there’s no stupid refund for this stupid fucking race at the end of the month, so I either run it, or lose the money. And the drive to run. And the patience for my own body. I read Running Fit all the time, and there’s these amazing stories of victory over insane circumstances… someday is my story going to be amazing, when I run my first marathon against all odds? Or am I doomed to failure?

Craig interrupted. Doofbrain.

Anyway, that’s what’s on my mind. So now I’m going to pee, then I’m going to smoke. Then I’ll shower, and hopefully I’ll get in a quick f**k. Or a not so quick one. It’s Sunday night, so what else could you have expected but an angry drunk post?