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Designer: Elies
Base code:OHsaygoodbye
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Saturday, December 30, 2006

running and ranting.

10:23 AM
will smith said it right:

running introduces you to your worst enemy, to that person who tells you, 'ooh, our ankles hurt and we should stop. why do we need to run five kilometres? let us run three.' that is the same person who says to the man, 'hey, your wife will never find out if you sleep with her,' and the same perspn who tells the 16-year-old kid, 'you are not going to be cool if you do not smoke it.' if you start giving into that person, you will never get to your goals.

running isn't so much about exercise, i realise. it isn't about losing weight, although admittedly that's why i run - i'm okay with the lovehandles but i'd like to see them disappear someday, hopefully someday soon. running is primarily about keeping fit, yes. you feel good about yourself, the adrenaline rush is wooo.

but running also gives you self discipline. when you tell yourself, you ARE going to run that 4 km, you do it. it bugged me when i couldn't do my minimum of 4 km continuously. managed to complete it in an agonisingly slowass speed - i bet the snail chewing on some green juicy grass could have crawled there faster. dunno, maybe i'm just weird, but i think pushing yourself and making sure that you cover the distance you set for yourself is a reflection of how you handle other things in life that require discipline. like studies for example. and dance, in my case.

besides, running is great stress relief, it's like physically screaming out loud, expelling the pain and hurt from your body, and releasing pent up frustrations that have accumulated, that you have to let go or else you'll burst.

i never knew one could feel extreme physical pain when experiencing an emotional trauma. it's like being kicked in the gut, run over by the north east line and then thrown into a pool where the piranhas have been starving for days. and then they chew you into pieces slowly but steadily, and you feel every single bite with the pain magnified about 19 times.

we'll get through this. right?

from evita

Time and time again I've said that I don't care
That I'm immune to gloom, that I'm hard through
and through
But every time it matters all my words desert me
So anyone can hurt me--and they do
So what happens now?

Another suitcase in another hall
Take your picture off another wall
Where am I going to?
You'll get by you always have before
Where am I going go?

Call in three months time and I'll be fine I know
Well maybe not that fine, but I'll survive anyhow
I won't recall the names and places of each sad occasion
But that's no consolation--here and now
So what happens now?

gah, this blog wasn't supposed to be all meloncholic but mad and floozy.




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