FFFfffffffuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuccccccccccccccccccccccccckkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Anyone's who's quit smoking before can relate to that exclamation above. One week down, and quite a few to go. I'm trying to take up running again just to refocus my mind away from the desire of a smoke. My biggest hurdle is the re-enforcement of it. Making running fun, as opposed to 3 days of regret from my knees for having run a few miles once every three days.
Evidently, I'm not going to try and run at the same level I was way back when, mainly because if I tried, I would die. As fun as the muscle agony might be, I'm not ITB, though I'd like to be at some point. And that motherfucker is my motivation now. I'm a lazy and forgetful person, so I need to remind myself why I do shit, such as running. It's a thing of getting the ball rolling, you know?
Once I think I'm up to snuff, I might join the Hash House Harriers. They are a bunch of drinkers with a running problem. Right up my alley. Conceptually speaking, of course. In other news, I might be moving in with a friend. It's in the concept phase right now, so I'm hoping I'm not jinxing it by bringing it up.
So, luck finally panned out and I've got a job. It's a shit job, I imagine, pumping gas at a conveniance store in Jersey. But I'm not going to complain about money in my pocket while I do school. I'll admit, I'm confident enough that I think I'm capable of more. But I'm not arrogant enough to think such work is beneath me. In this aspect, I'd like to thank the Army. It informed me not of humility, but of dignity and pride.
I had an entire rant formulated about class warfare and what not, but fuck it. I don't necessarily fallow Will Wheadon's law. I interprete it as not being an unwarrented douche. But that's just me.
Anyone's who's quit smoking before can relate to that exclamation above. One week down, and quite a few to go. I'm trying to take up running again just to refocus my mind away from the desire of a smoke. My biggest hurdle is the re-enforcement of it. Making running fun, as opposed to 3 days of regret from my knees for having run a few miles once every three days.
Evidently, I'm not going to try and run at the same level I was way back when, mainly because if I tried, I would die. As fun as the muscle agony might be, I'm not ITB, though I'd like to be at some point. And that motherfucker is my motivation now. I'm a lazy and forgetful person, so I need to remind myself why I do shit, such as running. It's a thing of getting the ball rolling, you know?
Once I think I'm up to snuff, I might join the Hash House Harriers. They are a bunch of drinkers with a running problem. Right up my alley. Conceptually speaking, of course. In other news, I might be moving in with a friend. It's in the concept phase right now, so I'm hoping I'm not jinxing it by bringing it up.
So, luck finally panned out and I've got a job. It's a shit job, I imagine, pumping gas at a conveniance store in Jersey. But I'm not going to complain about money in my pocket while I do school. I'll admit, I'm confident enough that I think I'm capable of more. But I'm not arrogant enough to think such work is beneath me. In this aspect, I'd like to thank the Army. It informed me not of humility, but of dignity and pride.
I had an entire rant formulated about class warfare and what not, but fuck it. I don't necessarily fallow Will Wheadon's law. I interprete it as not being an unwarrented douche. But that's just me.