I went running with Mr AMK yesterday for about an hour around the school campus. This being my 2nd time running in a year (excluding excruciating short-distance dashes... for the bus, that is), I rather obviously killed my legs, my lungs and my mental - its been quite awhile since i've felt time drag by so slowly, and God it fucking HURT: I was counting the number of bus-stops we ran past, desperately hoping each one was the stop opposite Fong Seng that I sometimes take service 188 from.
Fucking pain. You know, I honestly have to admit that I don't really know why I put myself through all this. Keeping fit and stuff - compulsive, man, freakin' compulsive. I skipped gym today and felt kinda bad about it, so I did 3 sets of 15 pull-ups and 15 dips at the neighbourhood fitness corner. I detest that feeling you get when you're painfully hanging from the bars and you've like, 2 to 3 more pull ups to go... Once again, it's fucking torturous and I don't really know why I love doing stuff like this. Perverse joy in self-mutilation, I suppose.
Ah well. Tomorrow I shall gym. And then I shall meditate on the possibilities the rest of the day holds... Which can't possibly be much, seeing as to the moths that inhabit my wallet.
Fuck.
2 comments:
oh man. i'm even worse. supposed to go to gym like, last year.
in case you found that strange, i left out a "the" before "gym".
never mind.
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