What I Would Talk About When I Talk About Running, Not That I'm Insane Enough To Think In Prose While Crossing The Finish Line

This Nike 10k T-shirt is really bright.

Oh, look, I'm only at the 3 km mark.

I can't run and drink from a paper cup at the same time, stupid.

I wish I didn't eat those Sweet Onion Kettle Chips for breakfast.

I wish it was a Saturday.

I wish the ground would open up and spew lava, forcing the run to be cancelled. Now.

Hey, I've been here before.

I wish a massive brown cloud would come our way, bringing the PSI to 2000 and forcing the run to be cancelled. At once.

I wish I ignored the last kilometre-marker and had a pleasant surprise upon discovering a 2 km advancement.

I wish I fell into a warp in the space-time fabric to find myself at crossing the finish line.

Oh, look, 3 km left.

Damn, I see my juniors. Avoid avoid avoid.

Do I have mini cupcake liners at home?

I don't appreciate the victory gestures you made while overtaking.

Look who's laughing now, dumbasses.


The finishing line. About time, too. The clock says 30:20. Seriously? Clock, do you mock me? Meh I'll just check my D-Tag timing online.

SHITE I FORGOT TO THINK OF S AND A but I'll think of them as I collect my bag. They'll be forgiving.

I feel weak and fragile.

The finishers' item this year looks like the Ribena blackcurrant on crystal meth, seriously.