Tomorrow

the real shit starts.
I am going to do it, no matter what happens.
Because when I challenge myself I am dead serious.
I push until I can no more.

The plan is:
Monday 7km, 21kg carry.
Tuesday 10km, 14kg carry.
Wednesday 7km, 25kg carry. (50% of body weight)
Thursday 7km, 14kg carry.
Friday 7km, 14kg carry.

If my body gets through that without serious damage.
I am all go to myself for what I plan for the following week.
I want to feel the edge again.
And that requires me to get as close as possible to collapse.
How efficient I can make my body.
My cellular colony agreed in consensus on this mission.

I need to say it.
Otherwise I will not do it.
Or call it off.
Saying it makes it harder.
But I refuse to fail my word.
I think my body can take it.
They seem adamant about it.

I felt it yesterday night.
It. It did something with me.
From within. Like an internal bioelectric explosion.
Way stronger than any orgasm I have ever had.
Wherever that came from.
The invisible sun.
The one you see when you close your eyes.
The burning sphere that always listens.
That quietly observes from within.
At the bottom of the ego.
Just beyond the door to the collective unconscious.
From where I draw all my power.