task.

I ran 5 kilometers today, which Wolfram Alpha tells me is 3.1 miles. That is super disappointing! I want 5k to be super impressive. I want 5k to be a hundred miles. I want to run it again, but better this time!

Wait, there is so much I need to say about this! About how I’m doing all this running shit so consciously, so mindfully, about how Baudrillard is so right and yet so absolutely wrong about how the urge to run is the urge to destroy one’s own body, about how fucking great it is! How wonderful to start something with a goal, and then to despise that goal and to tell yourself “No! I don’t even want to finish this thing that I’ve started! Because it sucks and I hate it and I’m in actual physical pain!” and then, finally, after you stop noticing the pain in your shins and the whole act of running itself really starts to melt into the background, then you’re like “No goddamn way am I just going back to the house. I’m gonna kill that hill and then some.” And while the running is just the worst, the stopping is the best fucking thing. The stopping and the sweating and the making your body be still in all these different ways, never stopping pushing. And the getting to 5 fucking kilometers. 5!