The 5:30 am alarm broke the Sunday morning silence as it always did. But as I moved to silence it, I noticed its absence: the bone-deep exhaustion that had plagued me all week was gone. In its place, a quiet hum of satisfaction settled in my chest, a warmth that defied the early hour and the darkness still pressed against the window.
The 3-1 win against Charlton yesterday had been more than just a result; it had been a validation. It was proof that the work, the relentless, grinding, soul-crushing work, was paying off.
The 6k run felt different today. My legs were still heavy, the London streets still cold and unforgiving, but my mind was clear, my stride lighter, my breathing easier.
I finished in 32:15, a personal best for the month, and the system flashed the numbers in my vision [SYSTEM] Fitness: 55/100. Mental Fatigue: Low. A welcome change from the critical warnings of the past week.
