Jogging the 5k to a friends flat out of anticipation and excitement (and the fact that I prefer running to walking) towards something that could be pretty fantastic, took it out of me slightly. I had to sit on the stairs outside, mostly because the cheese and fries I ate was disagreeing with me but also partly because I was tired and needed composure.
Running the 5k back home from that flat out of anger and 'I-really-couldn't-give-a-fuck-right-now', away from something that could be pretty fantastic, was easy. I hardly felt it and I went quicker on the way back, forced myself to be faster (did it in 20 mins). Didn't need to stop - didn't even feel the need to stop. Only felt running and running away.
Running the 5k back home from that flat out of anger and 'I-really-couldn't-give-a-fuck-right-now', away from something that could be pretty fantastic, was easy. I hardly felt it and I went quicker on the way back, forced myself to be faster (did it in 20 mins). Didn't need to stop - didn't even feel the need to stop. Only felt running and running away.
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