Sometimes Running Can Make You Feel Worse.
Sometimes running does little to improve your mood.
Sometimes inspiration dies before it’s even born.
Sometimes positivity seems to be as pointless as negativity even though positivity doesn’t make you want to punch yourself in the fucking face.
I’ll take the quiet life and a holiday from my brain. My aim is perfect silence on the run. No thoughts. The death of the mind that’s become my enemy.
I’ve got so close to being truly peaceful on the run. Usually at the end of ultramarathons,
Believing in your potential is meaningless because you only believe in your positive potential. And not the likelihood that if given the platform you could become one of the biggest cunts on Planet Earth. Charles Manson killed off the human potential movement by believing in his potential.
You have potential but it’s not all for good. You could have 8 wacky-headed little babies ready to pop out of you and each of them could set up a new sectarian state and lead the world to war. Best to get the UN to cordon off your mangina in-case little Gorbachev IV comes rolling out of you like a hapless Sonic the Hedgehog.
He’ll run up all the wrong walls and bring forward a New Cold War.
Sometimes it’s better to not believe in yourself. Your mind can be your enemy. Distancing yourself from it is the only way to stay sane at all. Distance yourself from the fucking insanity. Prozac only serves to turn the volume down on that insanity. To warp it. To distort it. Until nothing feels real at all.
I ran tonight and for large portions of it I just hated everything. I feel this way at times. It’s frustrating. Running isn’t really a replacement for therapy.
Even the smallest thing can set me off. “My feet feel uncomfortable in these new shoes” quickly becomes “You’re a stupid fucking cunt and this is fucking futile”.
I rarely feel this way anymore though but when I do it’s a trial but it’s to be expected.
Everything in modern society and popular culture exists to bring you down.
The churches will sell you salvation for a tithe.
Fitness magazines will sell you a new body if you subscribe.
Political parties will give you someone else to blame for your life being shit.
Your soul is a rat starved of dopamine bumping into anything that looks like a button. The next thing will bring you peace. Claw your way through Netflix to find that elusive chill.
It never ends.
You are you. You cannot stop being you so it’s important to try to be at peace with yourself.
The new you is the next you which is the same you as before. Your future self is always a judgemental prick but you’re only ever acting as you see best at any one time.
So if you’re feeling shitty on the run, try not to take it too seriously. It happens. We all feel depressive and angry sometimes but it rarely lasts.
We’re all dying and clueless in the face of that eventuality. That gives you the freedom to forge your own path in life. Who’s gonna judge you? Another bunch of dying bastards. Almost skeletons already.
I find that screaming and/or barking when I’m alone really helps.