It is sooo time for a free write…
Exercise. It’s something I hate, generally. I know it benefits the body and I know it sharpens the mind. But all in all, I hate the way it makes me feel while I’m doing it.
Fatty. No. Chubby. Stop it. Overweight. Get over yourself! Let it go. Fat. Knock it off! You’ll never be… Yes I will… You never have before. Doesn’t mean–Yes it does. I’ll always be? Yup. No, I won’t. Yes, you will. I’ll prove you wrong. Yeah, sure, uh-huh, whatever! Shut up! Fat…
Don’t get all huffy. I’m not the only one who struggles with this and don’t read into the text. It’s not like there are a bunch of voices going on inside my head, battling it out. And maybe there are. Who doesn’t have conversations in their head based solely on the decisions they ought to make?
I’ve been running in the mornings this last week. And riding my bike in the afternoon. And then going for a brisk walk in the evening. I usually dread each activity, but by the end of each, I’m very happy to have gone.
I feel like an absolute cliche. This isn’t interesting whatsoever. So I’m going to–