i think i'm getting along well with training. though the shins hurt whenever i raise them, don't ask me why i'm raising them. core's kinda weak though. hmm, too much sitting around and doing nothing, you might say. and i will gladly agree with your sentiments. great, i'm coming back to me not doing anything. i'm going to rot away the endless possibilities of what can actually fill up my precious time. my vocabulary is failing me at this time. note to self - get more redundantly, pedantic, over-the-top adjectives and ridiculously-dramatic phrases from the internet instead of searching for adult erotica and recipes for cup cakes.

i don't actually do that, just to let you know.

tomorrow's another day. probably, nah, most definitely (wait, is that same?) i'll be heading down to Temasek Polytechnic to do my intervals there. hold the phone, i think i'll be running bottomless. no, not cause it's my style. i mean, cause i'm afraid that i might have run out of running shorts. run out of running shorts. interesting. well, the people there would be delighted to have a stark-butt-naked 19 year old running around the track like some hamster who happens to be wearing a singlet. and my watch is busted, to add to the account of defected running gear.

alright, i went running, pounding the dirt and gravel under me with the leaves crushing away under my shoes when suddenly i got to thinking. okay, some of you will be retorting smartly, "whoa, finally nav!" assholes. anyway, i'm just gonna share my thoughts on what is without a doubt (in my opinion) one of the most narcissistic 'sports' - bodybuilding. before you guys start going "Why you can just shut the f---", hear me out. i'm not saying there's anything wrong with it. heck, i've even carried a dumbbell or two and stared at myself in the mirror for a full minute. it's fascinating. but see, you're admiring yourself. and you're building your body. and forgive me for saying, but seriously, don't you just get disgusted by the men, glistening away in their painted or oiled skin (or whatever the heck it is) while they strut and pose and flex in their tight, black thongs with a slightly freaky, disturbing forced smile. now, have i said anything bad? of course not. and a body builder really sacrifices quite a lot to be 'good-looking'. for example, they can't make their elbows touch each other. and they probably spend quite a lot on paint. there's more i could say. but seriously, is it necessary? narcissism in all it's glory.

if i had a dollar for every time i thought of or said out loud of how much i want a bike, i could probably afford one. my dad's coming back. and i've got my script together. "Daddy, can i get a road bike for myself?" Mum cuts in "Haiya, this children."