ojovivo
The Stonewall Inn
Keni

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hello vonnie
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year

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KIROKAZE
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macklin celebrini has autism

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titsay
NASA
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Not today Justin
Interview Vampire Daily

Game Changer & Make Some Noise
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@withmysoles-blog
L.L. Bean // Bean Boots
"We’ve run marathons together on all seven continents." "You ran a marathon in Antarctica?" "Ran it? She won it!"
can we talk about this
Morning Walk.
this is beautiful
an autobiography
Abs exercises
Ebs. Get dem ebs.
the dreaded DNF
It has been a full 24 hours since I dropped out of my first race ever.
I managed 3 years of cross country, 1 year of track, countless road races, and 2 prior marathons.
This was supposed to be my third marathon--my redemption from last year when I dehydrated early. I was going to cut 15 minutes off my time. I was going to PR.
I was on track to finish in 3:15:00 perfectly.
Laying on the cot in the medic tent at mile 15.3 I wanted to catch my breath and continue, but with every slight movement, my back pain was creeping. It had already forced me to change my form, giving me horrible hip flexor and IT band pains. With every slight movement I kept on thinking about Boston--If i finished 11 miles more I knew there was no way I could heal in time and start training again for one of the most challenging marathons in the world.
Sobbing, I told them to take my bib number. I wasn't moving forward.
I've been crying off and on for the past day now, and anytime somebody asks how I did, I can't help but burst into tears telling the story.
Deep down I know what I did was right, but I feel like people won't believe me, they'll think it was an excuse, or think I am weak.
I just feel so empty. Right now I should be feeling on top of the world, basking in the glory of my new PR and sharing with everybody.
I have nothing to show for all my work this past summer.
And it hurts.
There’s an abundance of bad things happening right now, and it’s hard not to be sucked into that black hole of sadness, so let’s have a puppy party shall we.
Because, let’s face it, dogs never grow up.
i love bette already