I have written very little on here, and even less on paper. I am not sure why it has been so difficult for me to pick up a pen or type on a keyboard. The future and past don't trigger me the way they used to, and so the urge to reflect has been non-existent. This apathetic feeling has been living in me since last summer, and up until a month or so ago I started to revolt against it through my work with running. The last few months have been shit, but I've been trying my best to get through them while remaining as healthy as possible. As I type this, I'm beginning to think that perhaps I stopped writing because I'm scared to confront the shit I went through at full volume. Hm.
Fortunately, the last few months have been dedicated to realizing when something scares me, and going head on with it. Preliminary findings suggest a courageous future.
I continue on my quest to be free. To realize who I am. Not so much where I belong in this world, but to see who the fuck I am without family, friends, career, running, writing, painting. Nothing! I want to know who I am if the world around me was free space.
Key days this week:
Thursday 9/15/21:
5 x (600 + 500 + 400 + 300 + 200) w/ 1:30 rest.
Saturday 9/18/21:
6.6 mile tempo @ 6:00/mi o hasta morrir.
Same theme, different post,
ET
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