One thousand.
Calories, that is. It took me so long - an hour and forty-five minutes to be exact - I think this work out deserved its own post! After a crazy day of climbing around the beach with Monica (which was beautiful, yet deadly by the way) I got to see kitty katt & cammi cakes at eggettes. Unfortunately we were next to retarded, pompous, think-they-are-cool-because-they-have-rice-rockets gangsters. Retards. Anyways, after thai, girls needed to go home.
Somewhat reluctant, I dropped them off at their car and headed towards 24 alone. But after starting the workout, feeling the rush, and getting that sweet taste of runner’s high? I knew I just have to train again. I mean, where else would all my competitive drive go? I’m straining relationships because of my idiotic use of my untouched stamina and restlessness. I mean, without competing in running I have all this leftover, crude adrenaline that I end up using in all the wrong places. Basically, I compete in everything from better phone to faster dinner.
And honestly, that’s just sad. Something has been missing in my life. And it’s the passion that has always stood by me and combated monstrous fat for me. I have fallen so far, blinded by the fake, numbered world of school. I don’t want to be like those people. I don’t only want to run to be on a team. I don’t only want friends that get me somewhere. I want to run to feel free. I want friends I love.
I got my best friends back.
Now, I just need to get my dreams back.