The night before Thanksgiving, I spent my evening watching TV in a hotel bar, trying to sleep on my couch.
I didn’t have to, but I wanted to.
The next morning, I woke up in bed, exhausted.
It was the first time in nearly three months I had been up all night, with the only bright light in my room on.
But after waking up, I did what any normal person would do: I went for a run.
The goal was to hit a few miles in under an hour.
The only problem: I didn.
I fell down the stairs and landed on my back.
It took me about two minutes to recover, but the stress of running and the adrenaline rush I experienced made me think about it all day.
I started to feel better, but it was still pretty bad.
I went back to sleep.
The problem is, I didn´t.
When I woke the next morning and got dressed, I realized I was still sore.
I looked around, and the only thing that looked normal was my legs.
I had to go to the bathroom, and I couldn´t find a towel.
I just felt like I was a complete loser.
I decided I needed to get better.
After getting back home, I had a conversation with my wife about how I was feeling, and she said that she was going to have to make a decision about whether I should go back to bed or not.
She had been working at a restaurant in Shanghai and had decided to work from home because she had just been diagnosed with cancer.
She was looking for a way to be home for Thanksgiving, but didn´T want to lose her family.
So, she told me to go back out there and try to run.
She knew that I would not be able to run the marathon that day, but she wanted to try to do something with the stress.
So I decided to go out and run the 10k, a distance I had not run in a long time.
My wife and I started out with some extra money and ran the first mile.
We kept going for about five minutes, and then I got tired of running.
I was thinking about how to make the best of this situation and went to bed.
But then I had an epiphany: What if I ran for two days straight, going from one hotel bar to another, each one a few minutes shorter?
After two days, we were back at the hotel, and we started to get tired of the hotel bar and started running.
It felt good to be on my feet, and my legs felt good.
It went well, but then the pain started coming back.
I kept running and kept running, and kept going.
And then the next day, I ran the same course twice.
It didn´ t feel that bad anymore, and when we came home, we decided to try again.
It seemed to work, but by then I felt the pain getting worse and worse, and even my wife was worried about me.
So we decided that the only way to get through the pain was to stop running, so we started running again, but we had to start running on two separate days.
It started to hurt even more and I felt like a total loser.
So in the end, we took a break for a few days and started to work on our diet and training plans.
After two weeks of running, we had a meal plan that included a diet plan, a running program, and running shoes.
I wanted more of a challenge, so I changed the plan to have a “sneak peak” at the finish line.
But it took me almost a month to finish my marathon.
I got back to the hotel after a week and was back at my hotel, exhausted and hungry.
But when I saw the results, I was amazed.
It had been an incredible challenge, but for that I had done it.
The running community has always had a lot of support and guidance.
And it has helped me realize that if I had taken the first step toward running the marathon in two days instead of two weeks, I would have never gotten there.
I have come a long way since then, but unfortunately, the world is still far from the goal that I was aiming for.
I still don´t feel like I have what it takes to be a marathoner.
I want to run marathons, but my family has told me that I can´t because I don´ t have the energy.
That´s not fair, I said.
My family is right.
It´s been my life goal since I was 15, and until I get that goal, I can’t achieve it.
So it´s hard to be honest, but, at the same time, it´ll be hard to give up.
In the coming weeks, the race will be the last of my life.
I will spend the rest of my days