I hate running. I bloody hate running.
Finally managed to haul my fatass off the bed today (after 2 weeks of procrastination and bumming) and went for my first run in 5 months.
IT WAS HELL, I TELL YOU. HELL.
All was well UNTIL I FREAKING GOT LOST!!!! It seems that after 5 months, I am unable to recall my usual route and totally went off-track. I would estimate my total distance clocked to be about 6km. The RUN eventually slowed to a JOG, and then a painful, half-hearted SLOW JOG, and finally came to rest at a BRISK WALK. Anyhow, they all say that brisk-walking is supposedly better than running, eh? So, there I was, idiotically walking around, trying to look cool like I know where I'm going and too proud to ask anyone for directions, while I was thinking "Fuck! Fuck!" inside all the time. When I FINALLY EMERGED from that hateful maze of private housing into the main road, I was so relieved I wanted to cry. Ok, I did cry a little. So I was running and crying at the same time, much to the amusement of random people.
And MA THIGHS!!! MY THIGHS!!!!!!!!!
Oh god, I cannot believe how unfit I've become. I am sure I will awake tomorrow, unable to move a limb. Ugh, it's depressing enough to make one want to give up and just leave it all to nature.
I fucking hate running. The next time, I'll just go swim, like I always used to. But only at night, or I'll get those hideous tanlines I've worked so hard to even out. (Hmm, actually come to think of it I didn't reall "work hard". It was more of laying around at the pool in glamorous fashion and letting the sun do its job. Hmmm.)Labels: fucking unfit, got lost, running, swim |
posted by mia at 