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Hello!

Yesterday I ran a half marathon, and today I can't walk down stairs. But as far as how I liked yesterday morning's run and what I think about it now after some sleep, food and water, I feel like it was only my first of many races and I am wobbly excited about it.

I like slow things. Not slow moving things necessarily, but I like activity that needs a lot of time. Time enough to hate yourself for beginning it, to hate what you're doing, but to do it anyway. That way you have to force yourself, and afterward you can lean back, like I did on the sidewalk after I finally finished yesterday, and stare at the sky panting and say Okay, I'll go home now.

I think about this a lot, and I also think that to love anything, you must first hate it. You can begin by telling yourself you love someone or that you love doing something, but it won't be until after you are disgusted with that person or that passion that you will be able to say afterward that the whole process is worth it. Because when it's easy, it's impossible to know anything. Older humans than I wrote before that strong wills and hard work make beautiful things, and maybe it just seems that way to us because the more time we spend invested in something the more it creates the illusion that we are a part of something important, but all evidence I can think of says they're right. No surprise though, most people agree on most things.

Going to Bangkok on Friday and then, if I show myself to be adventurous enough, I'll make my way south down into Indonesia and hopefully Borneo. I want to see some dangerous wildlife, snorkel, dive, and hang out in the jungle. I've never been in a cave before, and somewhere in Sarawak there are supposed to be giant ones, filled with skulls and anacondas. And visas are only $10, so happy!

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