I’ve been running today with a guy. Tall, handom and stuff. I know that it’s kinda running stuff and I shouldn’t think myself things but shit.
He kicked my ass while running to the mound and I got salt on my eyelids.
And shit. He won’t want to know me anymore because I look like pig and I’m weaker.
I feel so hopeless that I can’t even.
I know that it’s because pms and one lame photo but I feel so fat right now. And I know that lately I’ve not been a role model in healthy eating and stuff. So much chocolate…
I need a plan.
Less than ten weeks to the marathon.
In 12 hours I’m gonna be somewhere between the 2nd and 3rd km of the half.
Gotta go to bed.
Gotta chill out.
Don’t think about the sun.
Shit. I’m freaking out and have noone to talk.
Loneliness of the long distance runner is not about running.