Lack of running

The air is apparently not so clean here in Shanghai. Really bad I’ve hard.
You can almost die from a gulp of air.
The thing is, I’m an addict. I love to run, I need to run. Some understands this.
We athletes have this dependence for bodily-movement.
I’m no Jeremy Wariner, I tell you that, and I don’t have the physical features of an athlete in any shape or form, my girlfriend can tell you that.
But although I’ve won uncountable marathons and saved billions of people in cooler ways than John McClane (running gives you very unworthy thoughts) I’m not satisfied, I still need to finish my runs before work.
It relaxes me and soothes my brain for the rest of the day. Keeps me from stressing around. And steers away this constant guilty-conscience for whatever I’m (not) doing or eating.
I want to have my candy and ice cream without apologizing to my belly.
But I can’t run here. The air pollution is too screwed up. Everyone keeps telling me. You can die.
I know I have the gym and the treadmill. But I hate it. Stresses me up like a motherfucker.
How much time, how far, how many calories. Am I really this slow?
But far more annoying; super-focus ALL THE TIME so you don’t fall off.
I might be the worse treadmill-runner ever, but it just takes away all the pleasure in running for me.
Aren’t you tired? Why go up so early, that’s crazy. You should be happy that you don’t have to go up in the mornings now.
People say and eat another muffin with a promise to hit the gym later.
But I want to run before work. I'm an addict, don't you get it?
Knowing they’ll never will, I just wipe away the mix-berry smoothie stains from my moustache.
Maybe my laziness finally caught me on the flight over and I just need to ask it to go screw itself.