Old wounds and sand dunes
A friend asked me the other day if I still ran. I said I try to go out weekly, even though my mind, my body and my time are often against me.
'You're tenacious', he replied... This morning I ran 7 miles, 2.5 of which were on sand into 20 mph wind on a miserable Sunday in January. I am not tenacious. It is a compulsion. I have no choice in the matter. In the same way that I have no choice over blood flowing through my veins or air circulating in my lungs. I cannot stop.
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