If I felt the tears beginning to fill my eyes, I ran faster.
If thoughts wandered to those subjects over which I had no control I chose the nearest gradient to run up.
My lungs rasped. My eyes stung as sweat washed away the tears.
I met Dave. Talked.
We got to the gym. We didn’t really talk too much after then.
Squats with tired legs. Screaming lactic. Good.
Home. Food eaten. Quiet house.
I guess I can’t run away from the thoughts all the time.
A crap work week ahead. “Other stuff” louding my thoughts. Steep walls to climb, with a tired mind. To be honest, I want to retreat into full hibernation mode. Sleep all day and night, and let things drift over me. Maybe I’ll feel better when I wake up. Maybe everything will just sort itself out.
I can’t do that, it’ll be the death of me (metaphorically, and to an extent, literally. My darkest thoughts happen when I let myself hide).
I want to get the bus home. Lock the door and stay on known ground. Even if that known ground isn’t very good for me.
I’ve got my running kit with me at work. It’s the first step towards breaking the cycle. Run home. Meet Dave and go to the gym. Kick the living shit out of the demons that are gnawing away at my self-belief, my strength, my life. Get home and feel proactive. Feel like a normal person, despite an abnormal need to exercise. Feel able to stand tall and face another day.