One of the things I hate doing more than anything is exercising… especially running. Yet the ONLY thing this summer that I can be counted on to do on a consistent basis is to go out to my treadmill, to the high-school track, or wherever, and run my butt off for five or six miles. On top of that, I refuse to give up before I’ve accomplished whatever goal I’ve set for myself while hating every second of what I do. In fact, the more I hate running, the more I do it and the harder I push myself.
BUT I have failed to exhibit the same type of diligence when I’m working toward something I actually want. For example, I’ve studied my Japanese only on and off.
So what is this? Is this some crazy-subliminal form of self loathing?
I do, however, love the end result of running my arse off.
According to the BMI index, I’m overweight!