I look at my laptop's clock and it reads 7:03pm. In 27mins, I'll be timing-out of the office and head for tonight's workout: a modest 5-7km easy run.
Running's very addictive. It has been my savior not only from elevated cholesterol levels or high scores on the weighing scale. More importantly, it relieves me of this fast-paced, busy thing called LIFE.
The fact that when I run, even just for a while, I get to forget all the stress in the office or worries about anything else. I am not a husband nor a Dad. I am not a son nor a brother. I am not an office employee.
For in that precious time, I am a runner. It's just me and the road before me, with only the sound of my footsteps, my breathe, and the beeping of my Garmin accompanying me on this night run.
I may, on the last kilometer of this planned easy run, let it all out and target a sub-6:00/km pace. Seeing at least a 5:59/km on tonight's run will be my biggest reward for the day apart from being induced by endorphins once again.
Then, as I drive back home and then lie in bed, I will look back into the mileage, although small, that I've logged for this day.
I will then tweet.
Another run completed. I felt great.
After that brief thought, I will get giddy again since tomorrow's Friday. Then it'll be Saturday. And then, on Sunday morning, at 6am, even with the invitation of a comfy bed on a relaxing morning, I will force myself to get up.
For on that morning, I run again.