...but I'm catching up in this little race of ours.
My trainers are laced tight, I'm finding my rhythm, adrenaline has started to kick in, the weight I was carrying as a handicap is lifting from my shoulders bit by bit, and I'm not looking back as often as I was. Soon enough, I'll even start to forget. I just will. And when I do, I'll drop to my knees & thank G-d w/ what is left of my pounding mush ball of a heart b/c this grieving shit is for the f**king birds.
So, awesome. Let's pick up the pace shall we? Why not! There's no reason to drag this out into a Iron Man style marathon.
Keep running 'til you're out of track. Oh, and may the "best" runner win.
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