While running round the California Coastal Trail for the Blast the Coastline Marathon I ran past a guy sporting a short that read: “Winner Train, Losers Complain.” I’ve increasingly realized which camp I seem to find myself in.
There’s been a litany of setbacks and frustrations and mishaps. This morning during an aborted run that was agonizingly slow, a homeless guy tried to trip me. When I was somehow able to avoid that, this guy proceeded to repeatedly try and kick me.
Last night I spent an hour or so on the phone with the Anti-Fraud team of my credit card. My Amex card’s number was cloned and used to run up a variety of purchases from Footlocker.com, Polo.com, and the real red flag Gymboree. I can only hope since some of them were seemingly online purchases that the authorities can track down the delivery addresses for a raid to apprehend the thieves.
The world is a sad, dark place at the moment. And I find myself on broken record repeat whining, wallowing, and complaining.
I’m trying to rally to get out the door to work off anxiety and the wasted stress-eating calories of the afternoon. But as I changed the clothes into my running gear, I was struck by how things didn’t fit. Instead of being a motivator to change, it only made me more depressed.
Winners jog. Losers? Losers apparently blog.
Tough, tough days at the moment.