Break Free & Be Broken Read Online Free PDF Page B

doesn't sound appealing. It's one of my least favorite routes of the week. I should switch it up... yeah... switch it up.
    The part of me that adheres to order convulses. It's Thursday! Do the Thursday route! Stick to routine, remember? Stick to routine!
    Right, right... routine...
    Try as I might to keep a grasp on my convictions, by the time I'm geared up and ready to run, a truly outrageous idea managed to be born, grow up, and mature into a strapping beast inside my head: I'm gunna run trail today.
    Normally, the 45 minute drive to the canyon is an unacceptable waste that cannot be justified no matter which way it is examined. But trail running is without a doubt my favorite type of running. In fact, it was on the trail I first developed my love for the activity. Back then, I ran for fun before health-a memory so distant it almost doesn't seem like mine. Why not bring it back for today? It is my birthday after all.
    But wait, what am I saying? I haven't given myself any kind of special treatment on my birthday since I was a pup, still excited about the prospect of growing older. Today holds no significance outside of the date, and what significance is there in that? Come on! Am I really going to let this dismantling of regimen continue?
    I scoop up my car keys from the table beside the door.
    Yep. Looks like I am.
    Having decided, I waste no more time on the debate. I make my way straight to my car and get going. The drive to the canyon is long, though at least it's early so there’s little traffic. Part of the reason I wake up when I do is so that I have some time to go about my day without the herds of the world suffocating me with their presence-and I'm receiving the full benefit of that discipline now-but even with the freedom of low traffic, the long drive is tiring on my nerves. God, I hate driving. The only time I like it is when... my eyes fall on the glove box.
    The only time I like it is when I'm high.
    Maybe I should get high. I haven't ran high, I think, ever. That could be fun. That could be a good experience for me today. Yeah... I should do it. I'm going to do it! I'm going to live this day to the fullest!
    30 minutes later, I find myself placing foot before foot on the trail, sober as the day I was born. I couldn't smoke. I didn't have it in me. It would have destroyed the rest of my day, and even worse, it would have put me in a situation where I'm fucked tomorrow. You always gotta keep the future self in mind. The more you can set him up for success, the happier you will be. It was hard to change my mind at first-quite painful really-but now that I'm out here, breathing the clean mountain air, knowing I will still have energy to finish out my day, I feel pretty good. I think I made the right choice.
    The sun is beginning to gray the sky by the time I'm done, giving promise of the impending dawn. I ran far and long, much further than I was expecting. The experience was so pleasant I just couldn't seem to stop.
    As I run up beside my car, feeling fresh and alive, I realize I never really pushed myself today. I just kind of ran: ran for fun. A somewhat alien feeling is sitting inside me. An old feeling.
    I'm happy...
    I fling the sensation from myself like a handful of ants. I didn't do anything worth note on that run, I have no reason to be feeling happy with myself. Especially not today! I built my regimen as a pathway to satisfaction and accomplishment. It is the thing that made it possible for me to create all I have created. If it wasn't for regimen, I wouldn't have this body or this health. I wouldn't have been able to shackle my drug use. I use it because it is my friend... why am I enjoying breaking it?
    Whatever this is... whatever it is that's happening, I don't like it.
    The drive home is unnaturally peaceful. It makes me restless. Even when the dumb ass in front of me stops short on a yellow light both of us could easily have made, I don't scream, I don't yell; I just let it be.
    This isn't