Notes
Deja vu (or already seen in french). These running logs are turning into journal entries, but really running is a not just a way of life, it is an entire lifestyle. Today, fucker Justin had the brilliant idea to dig up half of his already small backyard to create a play area for his precious son theo. Of course, Asher and I were recruited without him directly asking us; it was just assumed. So we ripped up the sod and leveled the earth like day laborers. Fucker Justin decided to do this task on the hottest day of the week, the temperature peaked at 80 degrees, so the sun beat down on our backs, giving us undesirable farmer tans. He wasn't thinking because now because their backyard has even less grass in it, the sun's radiation during the summer is going to be scorching, and precious Theo won't be able to play on it because he will get third-degree burns instead. Oh well, my cousin will definitely be an "inside" kid, nothing wrong with that. So once we finished with that project, I knew I needed to go run before supper. I knew I would need to drive somewhere because I couldn't take another run in these shitty sweltering suburbs; my eyes would go blind due to boredom. I drove over to the paved running trail that I ran to earlier in the week. Holy Shit! It looked and (more importantly) felt just like driving after school the practice area Geneva xc used to run at. That was the deja vu part of the run. Now to the run details. I started off slow to ease into the run, but after 5 mins or so, I began my fartlek, 1 min on 1 min off. I was flying on the walkway, jamming out to frank ocean's blonde album. Surprisingly, there were a ton of bikers on the path, and it felt like another social one-upping with how much expensive biking gear one needed to wear or how expensive could you get your bike wheel. Now I know why miles likes biking because you can show off wealth and power. I decided to show off speed and fitness by rolling down the path at a nasty tempo. Holy fuck, I really was destroying people out there, and, in some cases, I kept up with the "rich" bikers. I ran down the path where it dead ended into a massive lake, where, you guessed it, even more bikers were biking around. My left Achilles was achy after the fartlek, so I took 2 mins to stretch it out and get back into the groove of running. I turned around and flew home passing underneath the metro that we took yesterday to go into downtown Dallas. Oh by the way, this was a shirts-off run, in December. Fuck Dallas. You know I love you guys because I'm running during vacation and in Dallas.