With sweat upon my face after running in a fast pace, I took a seat on the top row thinking of the effort I sow by failing on this day.
It’s the third day of the month: another peaceful morning, another mud and grass track, and the same warm sun on my face. You know what they say: thrice makes it thrives. Okay, maybe nobody says that, but I got something else to say and it’s about hope.
This is not a motivational post, and I hate motivational posts.
Some days, you start running and it just doesn't feel right. It feels like you are either dragging your feet, or you are carrying your head on your back. It's a normal thing for me and that's how most of my runs start.