This is week eleven of marathon training. My legs are sore and my feet hate me even more. I am still pushing on. My distance has been building and mind is going through the "what the f**k did you get yourself into??" thoughts. Almost half way through a long run, I was on a new trail and someone spray painted the words "I Am Free" onto the path.
It became my mantra, a little something to get me through the 29 kilometres. In time for my brain to explode that this week we jump to 32 kilometres. Oh shit! Still I carry on. Running. Hill repeats, tempo runs, steady runs and my long slow distances. Somehow I power through just fine.
My feet are callused and blistered, in one word UGLY. This comes with running. It is not very often that I get to remove my running shoes and not have a bloody toe or a raw spot but I love the euphoria I get from running. The I shut the world out and everything becomes fan-freaking-tastic. A runner's high of sorts, a break from my life where I get to be just me only for a few hours a week does this stress-less life appear and I realize why I do the things I do.
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