What youth is

my first act of stupidity; a date?

"Ring"

"Ring"

"Ring"

"Smack!" It was the weekend and I had the alarm on. I'm awake at 5 on a Saturday. I freaking hate my past self.

"well, I better make use of this..." I relay to myself. So I get up and prepare myself with a cold, motivating shower and athlete would require. It was like that boxing movie comprising the underdog everyone admired.

After drenching my hair into a string patch of blade like shapes, I got dressed with some athletics gear, Jennifer had bought for me last Christmas. It was a sports vest, some running shoes and gym shorts. I pull out my phone and open up some fitness applications ready for a good run.

This morning my adrenaline release, felt concentrated and optimistic so I aimed for a 10 Km run. I opened the door of my flat and stared out at the dark, cold night. A silent breeze was the only noticeable noise, apart from the casual rustling of plants near the gardens.

I stared out cold to the world, ready for a challenge. I always liked a good run, especially a painful one. What can I say? I'm a closet Masochist. I love physical exterior pain, and the joy of being out of breath. Sure, it sounds unorthodox to some, but you're probably a sadist then. Despite that, I climbed down the steps ready and began to pace slowly jogging. I was thinking of going up to Jaqueline's house, down and around the countryside with the grassy view and then up the square where a few people will be catching the early train and finally going back to Emma's house and then catching a rest at my flat again.

The plan sounded perfect, so I went ahead with it. Normally when I run, I have to slow down not because I'm really tired that I can't run, because the tendons in my foot start to ache uncontrollably. It's so agonizing that I am coerced to slow down to a walking speed. Even though I wasn't getting any ache, I got a stitch. I was pacing up to Jaqueline's house, and my abdomen began to suffer tremendously. I clutched it with right hand as I began to go up the sloped hill to her house. I began to gruel some obscene words to keep myself going.

I kept swearing, which was impossible of me to do; ever! My breathing began to accumulate as my oxygen began to deplete. I was jogging, and I was going to give up.

"No, frickin way!" I groan with force. "I'm gonna complete this goal! I have the energy to do so!"

"Every week, I have to fulfil my given goal!" I talk to myself. The pain sharpens like a knife now, as I feel like my ribs are being ripped off.

"Gahhhhh, come on!" My feet are now sprawling as I run, as I attempt to recede the sorrow. "Come on! Jaqueline will think you're a loser! You don't want that, you got to be strong! Do it! Prove to her!"

I am right at the gate of her house now at the end of the road, where I detour and jog back clutching the unbearable pain.

"Freaking stitch!" I was trying my best not to swear. I was forcing myself to deal with the pain. In the closet of my mind, was hoping that Jaqueline would witness, my perseverance. Being the isolated person I was, I was hoping she was going to witness, the determination I possessed.

Single people, they don't give up hope. There was me who though he lost hope years ago. I keep on running, ignoring a second glance for Jaqueline. The stitch dug in deeper, like an instrument of torture. I suppressed my wildly misinterpreted screams for fear of subsequent embarrassment. Besides what would happen if the school heard that the school president was seen making loud strange orgasm like noises. I shiver at the thought of it and just coerce myself into running further. I sprint past my flat, with a short static burst of energy, and slow down to a consistent manageable jogging pace again.