The Routine Of Running Every Day Keeps Me Sane
The routine of running every day keeps me sane.
If I’m having a bad day, then running breathes light through the claustrophobic thoughts.
It isn’t exactly fun to live life as a victim of your own moods. On rare occasions it seems justifiable to drink to change my mindset. To turn off the incessant fucking noise in my head. The noise will disappear for a few hours but it will be replaced by so much more shit-chat from my cunt brain.
It’s not an option.
I have an abusive relationship with my brain. If I were to target someone with the insults I give myself I’d be in one of those prisons where they do cavity searches with a pizza oven scoop.
To have a positive outlook about the future is to be drawn into something I can’t control. Sure, I can say “tomorrow is going to be great” but I’ve got no control over that day.
A positive outlook for me is to not give a fuck. To not think about tomorrow but to concentrate on doing the 2 or 3 things I can do today to make tomorrow potentially good.
- Not drinking.
I’m simply surviving nights at the minute. I pay for righteous indignation by the day with the wintertime sadness at night. The typical mood clock of the average underclass White Anglo Saxon Protestant. Bearded like the ‘pard and ready to blame something or someone for their own insecurities, poor mental health and terrible coping mechanisms.
Too much introspection by night. Comfort eating to escape the thoughts. Comfort eating that brings the same old physical results. Same old shit. Same old blues..
Ultra running and running itself is a huge lifeline. I try to spend as much time as I can on it as it helps lift my spirits. During the summertime months life is easier. The morning comes early and I can breathe again.
I can spend almost all of my Saturday plodding through the countryside and away from my thoughts. That’s why I stopped timing or pacing myself. It brought back the same old miserable internal drill sergeant inside of me.
I can’t risk getting injured just to impress someone else in training. Running has become a very valuable aid to me and I don’t want to lose it.
I need more coping mechanisms though. That’s why I’m writing here again and also playing the guitar.
This was meant to be an uplifting post considering what I posted yesterday but it’s arguably even fucking worse.
Tomorrow I will be reading a poem about how I fucking hate running backed by Joy Division’s ‘Decades’.