Choose a race.
Choose a training plan.
Choose a backpack.
Choose a fucking big GPS watch and a foam roller.
Choose good health,
low cholesterol, and a vegan diet.
Choose your friends.
clothes and matching luggage.
parkrun and wondering who the fuck you are on Sunday morning.
sitting on that couch watching mind-numbing, spirit-crushing game
shows, stuffing fucking junk food into your mouth.
Choose rotting you
stomach away at the end of it all, pissing your last in a miserable
portaloo, nothing more than an embarrassment to the selfish, fucked up
brats you spawned to replace yourselves.
Choose your future.
ultras... But why would I want to do a thing like that?
I chose not to
choose ultras. I chose somethin' else. And the reasons? There are no
reasons. Who needs reasons when you've got tailwind?