I take it back.

Part of my lifelong pursuit for positivity means that I must 1) recognize moments that I'm being ungrateful or forgetful of the gems I find in the rubble and 2) hold on to those gems and forget about the rubble.

I couldn't a find less cheesy word than 'gem', sorry. Hah.

My earlier mentioned runs were not completely boring. It's just that... in the beginning, everything was new, exciting, fresh; difficult at times, but worth the struggle; it was all I could think about, all I could talk about...

Comparatively, the last ones were only so-so. I was content enough when I was running... and then at the close of each hour, I moved on with my day, my mind on other things. The only traces of running on my mind anymore were wistful wishes for a better run next time.

In truth:

6mi - this run took a long time because I kept stopping. I was on my own and I had nothing to do later that evening. There was no one and nothing to push me. Instead of pushing myself, I gave in to my body's soft cries for mercy by pulling over by the water. I sat out on the pier with my back to the car traffic, the city sounds, and the fast action of kids playing; I lost myself in the foreground of water and background of a night city skyline. That was nice.

6mi - this one was with a friend. I pushed him. I joked about the run. I psyched us into thinking that it's not a big deal, when in reality, my pushing him made me push myself to my limits. We sprinted to the finish line too early; we thought we were coming to the end, but there was still a long way to go. It was exhausting, but it also felt like flying; like freedom, hard earned.

5mi - this was also with a friend. This time, with a good friend in great need. I hope she sees me this way, as well. It took a little bit of convincing to get her out in the gorgeous daylight, but she relented. We ruminated over this n' that, hardly noticing the run. My only memories of the run itself are the sun rays that beat down on my bare skin, the humidity that felt like a warm blanket when it is least welcome, and my sweat soaking through my hair and my clothes all the way down to my socks.

5 mi - this one also took some convincing. "Please... c'mon, we're partners in this! It's my job to push you, and you're job not to let me down!" He gave in, as always. He then proceeded to kick my ass in this run. Halfway through the run, we paused at some workout benches to do crunches. Beasts. With only a few blocks to go, when he suggested that we sprint all the way back, I could only urge him to leave me behind and promise that I'd meet him at the end.

6 mi - Again, I've been sucking at getting into it. 1 mile. Stop. 2 miles. Stop. 3 miles. Time for tacos (lol). 4. 5. 6. Keep going? Nah. Not by myself. Maybe next time.

Hoping for a better -- or rather, even better -- week.

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