Love story

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=xIfSPKYBcEo
Thought it was funny rather than lovely, nor romantic.

Running is a mofo workout, and none to do with other than feeling free while running. Clearing the mind by blurring the mind. Runner’s high. Not academic rather psichological aspect.

And all that matters. Being honest? Being tough? Or an inspiration? All above, even if feeling weak, or noninspirational, missing a good one with the fast one, who turned from questioning me for my ability to run neither fast nor long to letsruntogether. And for what reason exactly? Missing not to face the pure facts. Being tired, fat and ugly some days, that is also me, feeling wordless and surprised, calm and stressed at the same time – time to be alone. Still, these days make it much more certain that run makes me free; free of thoughts, free of responsibilty, putting on masks, being characters, taking off the pressure to feel, or finally feel.

I’m never and ever so ready to run.

Running is not a workout; is a parallel living but also a way of living through, a solution to live the life living. Afterall, my life is me alone, no matter how many attachments are built up through one’s life. Ones we chose, ones came along with, ones we want, and the ones we seriously would love to erase. Gotta go so low in order to rise – cliche. Life full of cliches, rules to follow and break, socially exceptably, but in running there are no rules, strive only to stride longer, run faster, further, higher, lower. But there is no other responsibilty, requirments, only the ones one decided to take in order to achieve any goals as it own challenge.

For that reason that is why so ever hard. To get out there in wind and rain and cold and dark, or warm and to lose weight and to build that muscle, or just simply to be a runner. Recreational, like any sport done for the pleasure. We suffer in order to feel better. Like life. Or should life be.

I live life the fullest and suffer makes me wiser, joy makes me a kid once again, smile makes me smile, bullshit makes me laugh. 

I don’t seek happiness from others, I don’t act nor play for likes of others, I’m no poster child, nor post for anyone to show. I post though and it makes me happy when someone likes it, but this is not the main drive, nor should it be in real life. I kept forgetting who I was, I still keep and will most probably. But my happiness comes from my own ability to be happy, though sometimes I must cliche-wise feel down in order to feel high. Friends and benefits a good one too, but I rather liked to be liked by who I really am. 

And afterall running is a running. Emotional rise comes as a side effect comes as a benefit and live through.

I cannot wait to run tommorrow. To run free.

The only place where I feel free and weigthless. On days I enjoy. 

But on those days I love running.

This is my love story.

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