I’m still running these days, although not as intense as previous years when I was still competing, its been a long winding road of sports and calisthenic all these years. Even when I was a kid, it just came natural to me to keep on running
Come to think of it, I never really get bored of it or think of it as a chore. Being more mature now, I began pondering over this ‘fixation’ of mine and I keep coming back to the same conclusion
When I put on those trainers and pound the pavement, be it during dusk or dawn, the further away I got, the more joy I derive. In a way I’m turning my back to my own set of problems, running away from it
Everyone has their issues in life. Well I’ve mine obviously and growing up, it has never been easy for me. I’ve always worked harder, tougher and longer than most but always had to settle for less
Being a perfectionist that’s not good obviously and I’m always striving for more … and more, and more. I’m not talking just about material well being, but the whole ‘package’. Ya know, the good life
I admit I have a dysfunctional background and running seems like the obvious choice I reckon. Running I view it as a form of an outlet or means of control. Yes a perfectionist and a control-freak
To run longer and further today means I’ll be able to see the results in weeks when I go for races or competition. Amazing ‘instant’ gratification of sorts … compared to life frustration for which I’ve no control over most of the time
I’ll still keep on running
The day I stop or began to waver, its probably the day I found myself
