This morning, I didn't want to get up and run. I kept telling myself that I didn't have to do it, that I could just be comfortable with who I am and live like a normal person. Then I saw a fat motherfucker outside my window and became incensed. I felt a rage at myself for my infinite weakness. If I think weak, I'll be weak, so I strapped on some fucking duct tape around my feet and started running.

I felt my knees giving out about a quarter mile through, but my time in the military taught me that cartlidge is for fucking chumps, and the grinding of bones is like the grinding of your mind. It gets sharper the more you do it motherfucker.

Some people might say that overtraining would give me knees, ankles, and joint pains worse than any fat motherfucker out there. I say that walking pain-free is a fucking joke. You should be living in agony every minute of your fucking life, because being pathetic is a symptom of complacency. Do you see that fat motherfucker out here enjoying this pain with me? That's what I fucking thought.

Its been 78 hours now and I haven't stopped. My feet are more blistered than an underaged girl's ass at a Diddy party, but that won't stop me. Geriatrics walking is overrated, I don't need to be walking when I hit 60, I need to bite down and force my body to move so I don't become a pathetic loser again. Stay hard