I creep out of bed, quads pulsating, all of my muscles screaming at me as I stretch and take in these first moments. Wobbling to my bedroom door like a fawn on new legs. I am nervous. Praying to whoever will listen as I step on to the scale, I dare not look down at the climbing numbers. I feel faint. Alas I look as 135.2 glares back at me, mocking my discipline, the jeering numbers unnerve me. I am ashamed. Now as if being chased by some maniac I prepare to sweat, vomit and whatever it might take to lose the weight. I bolt out of house with no real plan, dressed like it's 45 degrees in this 75 degree weather I stick out like sore thumb. Before I know it 1 mile has turned into 3 and my minds says "keep going" "Don't quit!". At the 3.7 mile marker, dazed and confused I turn around and head back home the pain in my legs has become unbearable, and although I can't see them I know the bottoms of my feet are beet red it's like I can hear the blisters squish with each step, but I must push forward I am alone on a secreted trail with my will power to live as my only weapon should I be attacked. The sun seems to be chasing me, as if beating me with wave after wave of heat. There are bikers now, whizzing by me leaving only faint dust and the smell of wicked sweat behind. -1.8miles left- The smell of dying oak is now heavy in the air, I've tripped too many times to count by now as laurel roots seem to spring from beneath the pavement, searching for the ankles of those who dare embark on such a trek. The wild orchids call for me with their fuchsia petals amongst a wall of green-brown hues. I am almost home, the orange clay reminds me of that and the trees becomes much less dense. As I round the corner the site of my mossy green house brings tears to my eyes, so close yet soo far.
