Saturday, August 27, 2005

Like a crack whore

They say the first step to recovery is admitting you have a problem.

Well world, I am an addict. I've known for a long time that I have an addictive personality. The signs started when I was very young. I've tried to control my propensity to become addicted. I've only smoked out a handful of times. I avoid cancer sticks like, well, cancer and I moderate my alcohol intake to no more than a couple of nights a week.

Even with all of my efforts, I have still been gripped by the relentless hands that are addiction. I'll describe the events as they took place today and let you decide for yourself.

This morning I woke up at the butt crack of dawn to go run. My friends and I put in 12 miles, while the Vet student and I kept going, putting in a solid 14. Exhausted, we retired to McDonald's where talk turned to the race that is tonight. I've been saying for two weeks now that I wouldn't be going, due to a lack of funds. I continued that assertion this morning.

I came home and watched some tv, trying to decide what to do for the rest of the day. I acquired some chaffing between my legs on the long run this morning, so I headed out to Walmart to get some ointment to help the burn.

I came home and started thinking about the race tonight. I wanted to run, but really didn't have the money, so I decided I'd just go and support my friends and have a good time. I started thinking some more.

When I was folding and putting clothes away this afternoon, I found some of my older, fat clothes and I had a brilliant idea. I could sell my old clothes and round up enough cash to enter the race! Like a crack whore, I rounded up all my old sellable clothes and headed over to the store (pawn shop) to sell them.

I got $21.25, just enough to enter the race! Now, what to do about the burning between my legs (the chaffing, not the VD, that's under control). So, I headed out to Hibbetts to get some Under Armor. There, I spent $21.60 that I didn't really have to spend on technical under garmets.

As I walk around the apartment now, I think to myself, geez my legs are tired, why the fuck am I going to run a race tonight? Normally, I rest the day before a race, not run 14 miles the morning of.

It all comes back to addiction. I think I'm getting addicted to running. Seriously, as strange as it might sound. When I started thinking about the race, and not running, it got my competitive juices flowing and I just had to enter. I felt compelled, by something within me to. So, here I go. Let's hope I do ok.

By the way, I'm VD free, that was a joke, in case you were wondering.

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