Someone just asked me what I think about while I'm running.
Oh god this sucks. Why do I run? I have so much shit I have to read it's not even funny. My ass hurts.
I miss Matt. Fuck. This is stupid. I hate running.
Hey, this doesn't feel too bad.
Wait, yes it does.
My nose is running.
Oh hey look, a bird.
Bye, bird.
My knee feels weird.
I wonder if I could make the argument that Thoreau...nah....Ed won't buy that.
Wait, what time is it?
I gotta pee. God this feels good. Shit. This sucks. How far is it? I hate running. I love running.If I keep this pace up, my marathon time will be....carry the four.....DAMN YOU BART YASSO! God, fatass cyclists who never yield. Make a hole, dammit! Fine. I'll just run into you. Asshole. I hate running. I gotta pee. Is it over yet? I miss Ruby. Fucking brain tumours. God I'm so angry. Ew. I think I ate a bug. My ass hurts. Relax. No, seriously. Relax. Am I there yet? I love running. I wonder how far it's been. I gotta blow my nose. I'm hungry. I gotta pee. Where's Len? I hate running. I love running. I want a cheeseburger.
This is pretty much an exact replica of every internal monologue of every run ever. If it sounds boring to read it, imagine being trapped inside your own head with it for six hours.
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