Ran Every Day in 2016. Didn’t Drink Once. Happy New Year Cuntos.
I ran 5001km this year and I feel OK. My brain is hanging upside down in some ways. Too much energy. Too much hate. Need to calm down. Slow down. And speed up when I actually do run. Maybe.
It’s the magical 5ks that kept everything together. They were my rest days, especially after the ultra marathons. The runs were joyless though and made me move like this little fellow.
I’ve been so motivated to achieve something that I could never have done whilst drinking. If I go back to drinking, then I have this year as an example of what I could do when I was actually not drinking.
Last year when I drank at the weekend Saturday morning would always be a write off and I can’t afford to have many more days like that. Totally fucking tired of wasting my life. If you only live once, why fucking waste it taking a drug that doesn’t even work? If you’re gonna take drugs USE ONE THAT FUCKING WORKS. Or use none and hate a society that promotes them and PISS SULPHATE HATE.
I’ll come around to your house and tear a hole in your toilet whilst you’re watching Strictly Come Dancing. My balls are on fire and I haven’t listened to Portishead in 843 days. FUCK YOU.
That’s why I want to do Land’s End to John O Groats next year. I’ve been on cross country tours before, but they’ve always been boozy affairs that were ultimately depressing. In December 2011 I went across Northern Europe drinking my face off in Christmas markets and it wasn’t even close to being fun. By Cologne I was worn out. I couldn’t get Tarzan Boy by Baltimora out of my head as I limped feebly from bar to bar in the old town.
I was gasping for alcohol all the time just to try to switch my brain off and to kill the negativity. But you know what was causing the negativity in the first place? The fucking alcohol. I used to think alcohol made me feel better but it actually makes me feel worse. When I was intoxicated I was feeling how I’d normally feel when I was sober and hangover free.
I know I’m capable of running from Land’s End to John O’Groats comfortably. It might take 40 days but I want it to be a time of fun and adventure. I don’t want to have any regrets when I die.
Happy new year Cuntos.
New Year’s Day for me was always a terrible fucking day. Mainly because I was compelled to listen to New Year’s Day by U2. And I thought I was a profound little cunt when in a puddle of sick and head pain I’d say to myself “nothing changes on New Year’s Day”. And nothing did. Because I listened to U2 and Del Amitri. In many countries that’d rightly get me shot.
It’s easy to hate U2. But that song “Nothing Ever Happens” by Del Amitri used to be my anthem. And I honestly fucking hate it now. More than anything. If nothing ever happens in your life, then you’re either in a coma or a drugs stupor. Move. Change something. Piss out hate. Have a wank. Join the military. Kill a hobbit. Exhume the dead. Get a haircut.
I’ve entered my first ultramarathon of 2017. It’s the Country to Capital 45 mile race. I’m looking forward to it. Should be fun. Just want to be jolly and find a way to channel this hate/energy into something positive.
Not drinking tonight. Might drink tomorrow. Cocktails with your granny. Some magical fucking Strawberry Hate Bombs to piss out the fizz in my shitty fucking brain.