#Its not even real coke its just sugar. He's about to have a dreadful time. But the TW is just for the visuals

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Omg idk if you talk Spanish or if it’s just XXC, but with that little and wonderful doodle you gave me the amazing headcanon of XXC being bilingual and just randomly speaking Spanish out of nowhere and nobody understanding him

[TL: XXC says "don't do coke in the bathroom"]

Shout out to the Spanish speaking MXTX fans. I don't think this is remotely what you wanted. (bonus below cut, TW: Drugs)

[skittles1229]

Old Expectations Die Hard (Dashie x Reader Fanfic)

Chapter One: Weird Circumstances

You know your life is complicated when the friend you always complain to says "you never have a dull moment do you?" I sigh as the weight of the world seems to make it impossible to breath. You see recently things have been rough. I lost my job and my fiance all in the same day, that itself was an unbelievable story. I was so upset and strung out on thoughts of what to do that once i got home early from work i didn't notice the extra car in the driveway. i stepped into my home and my own floors felt as if they'd given way when i saw the guy i thought i'd be spending my life with in bed, with my sister... my sister and i hadn't been on good terms for a while and for a good reason! The drugs she took either made her unreliable and selfish or crazy and murderous. He, of course, pulled the its not what you think, id never hurt you, it was a mistake, and honestly i could write a book out of the excuses i heard in the time of two minutes but maybe another time. Needless to say i left. I never thought about going back and to be honest my sister looked more hurt then i was. I took a job in California a few weeks ago and moved in with my friend (BFF Name). They always seemed to know what to say and honestly i truly believe They  knew me better then i know myself. 

California gave me the biggest culture shock I've ever had. I came from Mississippi, the bible belt and the most rural part of the world. California was sooooo different then what i was use to. The weather is awesome. There's lots of jobs for technical people, at least until you're 45 and then you're considered ancient and you can't possibly know anything when some 23-year old out of Stanford tells you that they know it all. (a little bit of sarcasm there) It's a great place to start a new company, money is available as is talent. The risk of starting a company is lower since you can always find a new job The politics are insane, if you aren't towing the progressive party line you should just STFU. If you even once say that Trump has done something positive, or that Obama did something negative prepare for the wrath. Read the stuff behind the recently filed lawsuit against google for a taste of what it's like. Seriously, don't say a word. The state if structurally bankrupt, although the finances look good because so much stuff is off of the balance sheet. The public pension liability dwarfs the "good" part of the budget, and some day it is coming home to roost. Watch out when it does. The cost of living is absurd, really absurd. I'm not talking just a place to live but gas, electricity, haircuts, milk, pizza, you name it. The traffic is absurd too. (can you tell i like the word absurd) The public transit, although usually on time, is a mess. People are pigs, they throw trash everywhere, the cars are overcrowded almost all the time. 

I've got to say, from how much it sounds like i hate California, i actually don't.  Mainly because its so far away from my original family, leaving really helped me start to grow up and feel like maybe i was getting a hold of my life again. Only problem has been getting to my new job on time. I work as a barista and a waitress at a brunch place a good minute away from the apartment. The money is good, otherwise i wouldn't waste my time with the commute everyday. i keep being late to work because i still haven't adjusted to how terrible traffic is and so my boss was "nice" enough to switch me to the later shifts. The hours are long and boring because my shift starts in the middle of rush hour to the slowest hours at the end of the day meaning you have to find things to keep yourself busy with. the only good thing is, we can wear pretty much anything we want as long as its black. all i wear is dark colors so i didn't have to spend any extra money on a uniform and i didn't have to wear the same thing everyday. Today i decided i wear a v-neck shirt that with an emperor waist (body forming) with black skinny jeans and my regular converse. i decided against driving to work and decided it would be far smarter to catch a bus to the nearest destination. My (hair color) hair was done is a fishtail messy braid, i always liked this style because it made me look like i had a head full of hair when in reality i thought i was going bald. 

My personality was a little odd, you see some days i felt like the beautiful nerd who has no confidence and wants to hide away in a hole. other days i feel like a model from Victoria secrets, of course those are the days i get the most tips. today was honestly a mutual day, where id rather be at home in my bed asleep, or listening to music. The bus finally stopped a block away from my job and i sighed obviously not wanting to go into work. surprisingly there wasn't nearly  as many cars as there usually is around this time but i wasn't complaining. i walk in to see that most of the downstairs was empty but whoever was upstairs definitely had a loud mouth. i walk to the back in order to clock in and i bump into melany ( the girl im shifting with). "wow you actually got here on time! Maybe the boss's mood will cheer up." i huffed a little. "yea, i dont know why i thought id need a car in California, say whats with the low level of customers? its NEVER this slow." she looked at me in disdain, "some guys reserved the entire upstairs and we had to make this huge table out of all our tables up there, glad im not gonna be the one fixing it later." i rolled my eyes, i hated when a huge family came in and they just had to move everything around because little johnny wants the sit next to suzzie and suzzie HAS to sit by her parents bc she likes to throw her food on the floor, all fake names but a real situation ive been in before. "well have they at least been fed so that i only have to clean up after them?" she shook her head while hanging up her apron. "nope, they've only ordered their drinks and they are getting those onto trays now." so today was gonna be like every other day. "guess i better go help them take those upstairs then, have a good rest of your day." i walk away and slip on my apron, grabbed one of the trays of drinks while another waiter grabbed the rest of the drinks. Once i got upstairs, that's when i met him...

Chapter Two: Last Will and Testament

          He was sitting on the far end of the long table of people laughing and joking. everyone seemed to be loud and all had their own inside jokes. This guy, he stuck out. i changed my attention to the task at hand, finishing this shift. i hated when people moved all the tables and seating around. all the waiters and waitresses have to go back behind them and look at the layout of the floor to put them all back exactly as they were before. it was a struggle and because of this nobody actually wanted that job so usually the manager gives it to her least favorite workers and i happened to be one. "who all had coke?" nobody answered me so one of the men bellowed out the same line and somehow was able to get a show of hands. i walked around handing  out drinks, catching the lingering smell of strong liquor. i could tell by the end of tonight they would all be wasted and loud. please, just don't make more of a mess then you have to, i thought to myself. i had one drink left on my tray, "sweet tea?" the guy i saw before at the end of the table waved his hand and i dreaded going over there, i always seem to make a fool of myself when it matters. 

     i make my way slowly down the table with the tray under my arm and the tea in my hand. i lean over to sit his drink on the table.."here's your t-" *CRASH* while joking with one of his friends his elbow crashes into my hand sending the tea flying all over me and the cup crashing to the floor, thank god i wore black. he turned around and looked more horrified then i did. "i'm sorry! i'm so sorry!" his voice was deeper then i imagined it'd be. "no, it my fault i'm sorry ill get you a new one." i turned away to hide my embarrassment and walked away really just trying to get away from the situation. i could tell from the silence behind me that all eyes were on me. i ran to the back where the lockers were for the service. i went to the bathroom and stripped the sticky clothes off throwing them aside. i sat on the toilet  trying to catch my breath, my social anxiety had struck me  hard. a feeling of worthlessness and dread fell over me like a blanket. after the past few months i've had just one day without something terrible happening would mean the world to me. i heard a knock on the door, it was melany, she walked in with a towel from the kitchen. "hey, i heard what happen upstairs are you ok?" i covered my breast trying keep myself as unexposed as possible. "oh yea im fine, im just cold, and sticky, and... covered in tea." melany and i made eye contact and both laughed just to lift the dread in the air. "let me guess, all the guys are getting a kick out of watching me fumble again huh?" i said a little less concerned and more annoyed. she rolled her eyes "they are boys, they get a kick out of picking their own nose. we both slid to the floor beside each other, she hands me the damp towel. i get most of the sticky off as possible, throwing my hair up to make it look less clumped together by the sugar. "i have an extra black t shirt in my locker but i don't know how it will fit you. your breast are at least a size larger then mine." i shrugged my shoulders, "who cares ill make do. thanks for your help melany." she smiled her weird anime girl smile and ran to get the shirt from her locker.

     ill have to admit, she was right about the size thing. it was far to small around the chest area but the rest fit fine. after the incident my boss stuck me down stairs wiping tables and sweeping the floor, i dont mind though because i get to experience the day coming to an end with a beautiful sunset over California. i secretly kept the the window to watch as the sun fell from the sky. the sky seemed to burn and darken while the clouds began to glow with the last bit of sunlight left. the sky filled up with burning Burgundy and faded orange and yellows, the tallest buildings seemed to reach for the skyline as if it were a sunflower moving to the last drip of sunlight. moving here had been hard, and this had become one of the things i looked forwards to. living in the apartment with my friend was nice, buts its not the same as coming home to someone you use to lay with every night. sleeping alone seemed so much colder and emptier then i remembered from childhood. my mother would be so disappointed in the way i turned out, in the places id gone and the decision to spend my life with someone who was most obviously the wrong one. she would have told me to slow down and to take my time, that growing up wasn't everything. she would have said love isn't something you just wake up and have, its something you make. i wasn't anywhere close to where i thought id be by now, and i could see that. it tears at my heart everyday, not being able to see her or any of my family. sometimes it felt as if they'd all died in the fire that night. 

     i suddenly heard a boom of voices making their way down the stairs, i hadn't realized how close to closing time it had become. all of them walk out stumbling and laughing at their own jokes, seems they all got a good bit of drinking in, all except one. The guy i ran into on accident seemed as sober as ever, designated driver i think, he was much taller now. he seemed muscular but in such a fitting way for his body. his teeth sparkle because their so white, his smile complimented him best. his high cheekbones made his chocolate brown eyes his best feature. His skin was glowing with a sweet honey hue and before i could notice that i was staring he turned his head. his eyes met mind before i could think twice and that's when i felt the heat rise to my cheeks. weather it be from embarrassment or silly school girl shyness i didn't know . i turned my face away but it was too late, i turned my face a little just to catch a glimpse of him before he made his way out of the door and that's when i noticed his cheeks had gone from a burnt caramel to a rosy color. i felt my body shiver at the thought that maybe, just maybe he found me as attractive as i found him. i shook the thought from head realizing they had began locking the place down. as i helped close up shop and wash dishes i couldn't help but to let my mine wander to all different kinds of thoughts, funny thing was they always fell back to him and his rosy  cheeks. i couldn't help but smile as i felt my heart race at the thought of him, even though id made a fool of myself today i was glad i hadn't ruined my chances. Even if he'd never get with me or i wouldn't ever see him again, i'd still take it as a compliment that he even looked my way. 

     before long we were all outside laughing and talking about today. The manager locked the doors and said his goodbyes. i turn to walk towards the bus station when i see a man standing aside awkwardly between the restaurant and the parking lot. suddenly my eyes adjusted and once they did, the joyousness butterflies came back and the blush suddenly reappeared on my cheeks..

There are lots more chapter after this if you are interested you can find them here

https://my.w.tt/sosFRmianbb

[kelleyish]

long overdue

SO!  I have been trying to get around to writing a post for several weeks now.  God knows what all I was going to say, I’ve probably forgotten half of it.  But here we go.

It’s currently raining and thundering outside.  I love it.  My dog is a little less thrilled.

I turned 41 about 2 1/2 weeks ago.  As if that wasn’t shitty enough, the night before I somehow managed to hurt my leg/hip/back.  While laying in bed! Doing nothing!  I could hardly sleep because laying on either side hurt, and I can’t sleep on my back.  I spent a good part of my sleeping time the next couple of days in my living room recliner.  When I tried to walk, I had this sideways limp thing going on, looking like Quasimodo, and I couldn’t walk far enough to even go to the store.  I was very angry about the whole thing.

Here’s one thing that stupidly hurting yourself for no reason and turning yourself into a cripple overnight is good for - weight loss motivation!  I got back on keto that day, and barring a box of Cheez-its I demolished later that very day (oops), I have been on it since.  Like I said that was 2 1/2 weeks ago, so I’m firmly in ketosis and my appetite has decreased considerably, which is awesome.  I’m currently eating just one big meal a day at dinner, with a small snack at lunchtime if I have to.  It’s not strict intermittent fasting but I’m not stressing it because:

My currently philosophy is “good enough.”  Eating bread substitutes, and sugar substitutes like erythritol, or even some Coke Zero is ok, if it keeps me on the diet.  It’s still 125% better than not being on the diet at all.  If I’m hungry, I eat.  There will be time for more strictness later.  I have to quit focusing my energy on losing as quickly as possible, because that leads to slipping and falling off the wagon and I get nowhere.  I’ve made sure to cook keto treats and keep them around for when I need something, like keto peanut butter cookies or keto mini cheesecakes.  My father has lost over 60 lbs since I introduced him to keto last September (if only I had stayed on it myself!!) and he’s lost that weight by doing exactly this - making sure he has access to keto-approved carb substitutes instead of trying to eat nothing but meat and vegetables forever.

I don’t know how much I’ve lost because I gave my scale to my parents to keep several months ago.  But I can tell my pants are already looser, and my body feels 5X better in general.  My body obviously doesn’t like carbs, I just wish I could convince my mouth.

To that end, I’m trying to do this with the mindset of an alcoholic staying sober.  No, I cannot reward myself with that sugar-laden drink as a treat, just this once, because it will set off a chemical reaction in my body and brain, ruining my hunger suppression and resistance to cravings, causing me to fall off the wagon.  I have to stay 100% dry, for a gooooood long while.

I’ve been jobless (or self-employed) for about six months now.  My brother and I are starting a web based business but it’s taking a lot longer than we thought to get it going.  In the meantime, I got a wild hair to try writing and selling stories on Amazon.  It’s not a get-rich-quick scheme in the slightest, and will probably never make enough to support me, but maybe, if I’m very successful, it could be an extra $1000 bucks in my pocket per month.  That goal is a very, very long way off though.  I published my first story on my birthday, about 2 1/2 weeks ago. I made what I later realized was a mistake, giving it away for free the first few days.  I thought the ‘sales’ numbers would contribute to my ranking after the free period was over, but it didn’t.  And likely many of the people who downloaded it for free wouldn’t have paid for it, but I am enrolled in the Kindle Unlimited plan, so people who are subscribed (it’s like Netflix for books) can read it for free, but I get credit for their page reads, so I probably lost out some of those to KU subscribers that just “purchased” it for free rather than reading it through KU.  Since then I’ve probably earned about $6 from it.  Not big bucks.

I just finished my second story today.  My first story was 5 thousand words, this one ended up being three times as long.  It still needs some editing and I need to create a cover for it, so maybe I can put it up next week.  The general consensus in this game is the faster you write and publish stories, the more you will earn.  But I am not the world’s fastest writer, it seems.

Did I mention I’m writing erotica?  I’m writing erotica.  It’s a low bar, and I only have to construct the barest of plots, and then throw in lots of dirty scenes.  The real money is in romance, but I’ve never been a romance reader, and I’m not sure I could write a novel-length story.  But who knows, I did triple my word count on my second go-around.  I guess I need to start actually reading some romance novels, see what it’s about.

Ok I have actually read at least one romance novel.  I was in 5th grade, and I stealth-borrowed it from my friend’s mom.  I snuck it out of their house and read it while sitting on top of the monkey bars at the park.  I remember it had a scene where the guy lays the girl down in a meadow, and licked her pussy through her sheer underwear.  And all off a sudden i started feeling a crazy throbbing between my legs as i was sitting there on those monkey bars, and I was like wtf is happening to me down there?? Lol.

On Monday, I was getting ready to gather my laptop and go sit at Starbucks and write, when I got an email from my former co-worker, asking me to call her.  So I did, and she asked if I would want to come back to work.  She said things have picked up, and my immediate boss wanted me back. I said I’d have to think about it.  So I sat in Starbucks trying to write smut and couldn’t stop thinking about my old work.  I ended up deciding the adult thing would be to go back for now, if they need me, because I’m not making any money right now and I’m going to have to pull more from my retirement account in another couple months if that doesn’t change.  Even though I told myself I didn’t ever want to go back, I didn’t leave on bad terms, and it would be way easier than interviewing for new jobs and more pay than temp jobs, probably.  So I texted her back yes, and she said she’d talk to the big boss.

For the last three days I’ve been dreading going back.  It feels like I’m a kid again, dreading the end of summer and having to go back to school.  Days were going by without me hearing anything, and I was like when do they even want me to start?  I still had questions about salary and insurance, etc.  Then my co-worker texted me back today, saying the big boss would look at the budget, and that my immediate boss probably didn’t need me as soon as he thought.  Translation - it could be months before they actually call me back.  Or it could be two weeks from now, who knows.  But man I feel good knowing I’ve gotten another temporary reprieve.  “In terms of instant relief, canceling plans is like heroin.” - John Mulaney.

There’s probably more I could say, but this damn thing is long enough.

[thelowcarbrunner]

What’s The Story Here?

“Hi! My name is Fred, and I’m an addict.”

I moved to America in 2009, where, when you say those words, you immediately picture an awkward room filled with people quivering in silence to the sound of anxiety. One may even smell over-brewed coffee. No, I am not addicted to drugs, and this is not going to be the story of how I overcame an addiction by running. This is the story of me. A French-born runner in New York City.

In 1994, my PE teacher gave me detention for hiding in the bushes with some girl friends while we were doing endurance laps in the Jardins du Luxembourg (the Senate’s garden where we would have PE classes in the spring). I think I was smoking cigarettes there as well... I was to report at 8am on a Saturday. This seems like an unimportant event, but I truly believe the confidence boost that was to come shaped part of my personality.

I unexpectedly arrived on time, in my joggers, my rebel attitude blazing out of my ground-striking eyes, only to have it thwarted by the absence of any other student.

‘We are going to jog for half an hour, and you are not allowed to stop.’

What a preposterous idea... ‘C’est impossible !’, I said in my teenage pouting voice. But there was no way out, it was happening.

So I went, before him, slowly. I tried to brake-check him, I said I couldn’t breathe... But I think my sweaty red face wasn’t sad and convincing enough, because he would just push back and tell me:

‘stop whining, you can do it, don’t stop!’ 

He proceeded to start a conversation, I can’t remember what it was about... But I like to talk, so I went with it, and with every sentence, the concept of time started to wither away. I have no idea how fast we were going, but in the end, we did run for 30 minutes, and I did not die.

FAT This happened during what I call, my ‘fat’ year. For a while, I had been drinking Coke by the bottle, stacking candies near my bed, eating ice cream and cookies by the box, ... My older brother even referred to me as “bouffe-tout” (”eat-everything”, which happened to be Slimer’s French name in Ghostbusters.) All I wanted was to eat, burp, and mostly to avoid any effort at all cost. One of my brother’s friend reminded me recently that I had ‘invented’ some type of rope-elevator apparatus just so I didn’t have to walk down the two flights of stairs that separated the TV from the refrigerator... I am unsure of what would have happened of me if I hadn’t hidden and smoked behind the bushes during PE in 1994.

BE COOL In High-School, I spent every day skateboarding with my friends. I would skateboard to school, skateboard in school, skip school to meet my friends to, skateboard... That’s all I did around, and sometimes within, my class schedule. I was very active. Those years can be summed up in 5 words: Skateboard, metal,_ sweat_, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, 411 Video Magazine... Yet, running wasn’t something I enjoyed. I assimilated it with PE, and PE wasn’t fun.

I stopped skateboarding when I graduated from High-School and joined a band. This was going to be my life. The energy I put into skateboarding was to go into my hardcore band life. I’d eat whatever, drink whatever, party, scream and play loud music. Somehow, I managed to stay fit during several years with my only workout being screaming into a microphone while jumping everywhere like a clown for about 6 hours a week... How sweet is life...

‘What sport do you play?’

Sports? I didn’t play any. What a strange concept that everyone should be into some type of sports... Of course, as any kid in France during the 90s I had practiced Soccer, some Track and Field, Tennis, etc. But I was out of school, why would I put myself through this willingly?

WHATEVER HAPPENED From one band to another, the music got quieter, until I ended up singing in a signed pop/punk band. The rehearsals and the jumping around were more sparse, I mostly stood behind my mic on a stand going left and right, but the rest of the lifestyle was still there, harder than ever. I remember a band retreat, where we tried to push ourselves to wake up every morning and jog in the woods and do some crunches. Fail. It lasted about a week and stopped as soon as we were back in Paris. Life started to catch up on me, and I was losing touch with my body.

I woke up one morning, my band wasn’t doing as great as I wanted, pictures started showing rolls out of my skinny jeans, I had no vision for my future, I hated myself. Life seemed to be an impossible concept. Impossible... ‘Nothing is impossible. Fuck that’. Like my PE teacher, the voice in my head would not let me quit. ‘Get a grip you stupid goat!’

DIRECTION I needed goats goals. Like those 30 minutes of jogging I was forced to complete, I needed to picture a success, and never quit until I was there. ‘Get fit!’ I bought a cheap pair of store-brand ‘running’ shoes, and started running. I started going to the Olympic pool in my neighborhood to swim laps. I registered for college to resume my studies (in France it’s free, how sweet is la vie?). Here was a clear goal right in front of me, there was an exchange program after 2 years, and I would be one of the few that would spend a year studying in the United States. Failure was not an option. I would talk about it like it was set in stone, ‘when I’ll be in the US...’ Whatever people said, this was happening.

I don’t think I can describe how it felt two years later, on that plane to San Jose, CA, looking out the window, with a year of fending for myself ahead of me. I wasn’t scared. I felt a mix of incredulity and excitement. Like a long race during which you did not even acknowledge any thought about quitting, yet when you pass the finish line, you wonder how the hell you did it...

WHERE AM I GOING? When in college in France, I had registered for any sports or team that would fit into my schedule. Track team, check. Team Handball, check. Baseball, check. If I didn’t have practice on a day, I would just go to the gym or to the pool. But in France, apart from the Rugby team, all you had to do was to show up, and you were part of the team... Years of American Teen movies had scared me from even considering the dreaded “tryouts”, so I didn’t join a team. I just ran, went to the gym, and I bought a skateboard and a bike to get around (as a typical Parisian, I did not have a driving license...) I was staying in shape.

After two years of having planned my life like I had OCD, I let it take a direction of its own, and a year later, I ended up in New York instead of going back to France. There, I adhered to the ‘basic’ New-Yorker’s lifestyle: join a gym, work, workout, drink, eat-out, bis repetita. It wasn’t the best of time, it wasn’t the worst of time, but I did not have a goal, an ‘addiction’. ‘Just find something.’ Music it is. I started The Johnny Pumps, in 2012, and focused on writing songs again. When I wasn’t working or writing songs with a glass of whiskey, I was going to the gym, not really trying, avoiding cardio.

FAT 3.0 Was it age, diet, or lifestyle? I started putting on more pounds that I wanted to. When I reached 220bs, I felt disgusting. The problem when you are 6′4″, is that even when you are overweight, it doesn’t show that much unless you take your shirt off, therefore people tell you “you’re crazy... You’re not fat at all...” Some people, like me, need to hear that we are fat, and we need to get a grip.

I don’t think I’m blowing anyone’s mind by saying that the fastest way to shed fat is to stop eating carbs. Unless Dr. OZ is your go-to reference in dieting, setting aside all other rhetoric, we should all know in 2017 that grains and sugar raise the level of glucose in your blood which triggers your pancreas into releasing insulin which tells the body to stop burning its fat stores and instead, absorb some of the fatty acids and glucose in the blood and turn them into more body fat. Whether we agree or not that this is a healthy, or easy way to lose fat, or that you run faster or slower with carbs, nobody can say it doesn’t work if you commit to it. ‘Commit’. Well, turns out I am good at that. Ketogenic diet, here I come.

RUN, YOU FOOL Coconut oil, avocados, chicken, fish, broccoli and cauliflower. You name it, I’ve eaten more than anyone would like to. But in less than a year I was as skinny as 175lbs (way too skinny...) to finally set up to 185lbs (my ‘perfect’ weight).

In 2015, one of my best friends texted me:

“Hey! Wanna run a relay with me and some friends in a month and a half in Utah?”

“Sure!”

I had committed to run 2 legs of a marathon relay with my friend’s girlfriend. I was going to basically run a half marathon, with no training. I cringe today when I say out loud that I trained for it mostly on a treadmill, at the gym, and that I ran it with road Nikes I bought on sale. I believe my longest ‘train’ run was 8 miles out of the three ‘real’ runs I did in Central Park.

DID I JUST JOIN A CULT? This was the third November Project Summit, and I had no idea what the November Project was. From my experience at the race, they were just some weird beer-drinking frat guys who happened to be really loud and cheerful. I can say today that I really didn’t get it...

I can honestly not remember my time, all I know is that my first leg was under 1h, and the second was hell, and over 1h. I had never focused on my result/time, PR was an unknown concept to me, pace was just a word I would hear without knowing what it meant, if I went out to run, my goal would be x minutes of running or x many loops. I would go, reach the goal, then not think about it again.

Back in New York, I went on a few runs, mostly worked out at the gym. I didn’t really have a ‘good‘ reason to run. In the back of my mind I thought, maybe I can do this again next year, it was fun.

February 2nd, 2016

Text from, to use his real name, Gabe**: **

“Want to go to the November Project workout tomorrow morning at 6:28am?”

“What the hell is November Project, and why TF is it at 6:28am?”

“You know, those guys who were partying when we ran the race in Utah, they have workouts every Wednesday morning and its right by your place.”

“Sure.”

I’m not addicted, but I may have joined a cult.