Anti-Mindfulness Running Dialogue
You’re a fat mess and you’re only running so you can eat pie.
That’s a quarter of a mile ran. Well done fat boy. You haven’t keeled over. That’s a fucking start.
You’re a miserable cunt. All the other runners are happy. You’ve seen them smiling. Grinning from ear to ear. You’ve never felt that way genuinely before and even if you did you’d talk yourself out of it. Analyse the positivity and just accept the negativity because boo-hoo life is death and you’re still a fat emo inside.
Now let’s get this over quickly so you can eat some pie. What flavour of pie? Any pie will do. Anything to block the sads out.
What’s that? You want to stop? Fucking stop then. Go to McDonalds. They sell pie. You are pie.
Feed your fat pie hole.
0.5 miles. You’ve already ate 2,500 calories today and it’s noon. Pizza for breakfast again? True liberation. You’re a fat pig glutton and when the apocalypse comes the raiders will be the first to eat your stupid fat fucking corpse. If someone gave chase to you right now you’d lose. Collapse. You’ve been doing this seven years and you’re probably even worse than this than you were at the beginning.
What’s that? You need to shit yourself? The anxiety from your racing thoughts has got to you again! You can’t even go one fucking run without wanting to defecate like some kind of Irish cave beast, shitting there in the woods like the last 10,000 years didn’t fucking happen.
That’s right. You’re running fucking slow. This running malarkey is meant to be helping you mentally but I am overtaking your brain. I am making you question yourself. I am winning.
What’s that now? You’re sad? Why not try to get angry at something irrelevant to distract yourself? You could always give yourself something to be sad about and wipe your arse with a pine cone. Or some nettles again.
There’s another runner. Actually fucking moving. Healthy. Smiling. Radiant. You have the death pallor of a junkie. And that’s what you are. Endorphin junkies are junkies like heroin junkies and you’ll never face your problems head on.
That’s it. Quit whilst you’re behind. You’ve never been ahead and even if you were, you’d find a way to sell it to yourself as fucking failure.
No wonder you keep repeating the “I can’t keep fucking doing this” mantra. You can’t. Because you never could. Cos you’re a cunt.