When I’m at mile 12 of a half marathon and I’m absolutely dying, and running on caffeine and verbalised self-hatred to put one foot in front of the other, like “come on dickhead, you’ve done this in training, stop being a fucking fanny and get through this, you can do a mile on your dick and that last tenth of a mile is your poseur time, get through it you arse piece”
Or, if I’ve got a cold and need to walk the thirteen-point-one yards to the kitchen when my stomach is doing somersaults and my joints ache, like “go for it bellend, you ain’t getting better sat on your fat hoop, get some paracetemol and stop being a miserable cunt, you can do this”.
Maybe I’ve been leaning too hard in to the self-loathing as a coping strategy.
I can see two use cases for this:
When I’m at mile 12 of a half marathon and I’m absolutely dying, and running on caffeine and verbalised self-hatred to put one foot in front of the other, like “come on dickhead, you’ve done this in training, stop being a fucking fanny and get through this, you can do a mile on your dick and that last tenth of a mile is your poseur time, get through it you arse piece”
Or, if I’ve got a cold and need to walk the thirteen-point-one yards to the kitchen when my stomach is doing somersaults and my joints ache, like “go for it bellend, you ain’t getting better sat on your fat hoop, get some paracetemol and stop being a miserable cunt, you can do this”.
Maybe I’ve been leaning too hard in to the self-loathing as a coping strategy.