George and I went on a four-hour hike. Unfortunately, we didn't get attacked by mountain lions, but we did trek through a section of the mountain that was completely charred black from a fire with ravens passing overhead. We also came across a huge, battle-scarred wolf spider with two legs missing because limbs are for weaklings. Anyways, I'm probably going to die from inhaling dangerous carcinogens, which is a measure of true strength.
The agonizing training I've been inflicting upon myself paid off. Near the end, my legs were stricken with two painful cramps. It felt like knives were stabbed into my flesh, which would rule if I actually had the satisfaction of seeing that. Since I did not, the deal was cheapened, and as my eyes rose up after checking to see if I was impaled, I was faced with a monstrous uphill slope that seemed to expand for miles. That's because it did. I decided to continue until my muscles were physically incapable of supporting my body up, so I stomped forward through the cramps. The pain was great, and my legs spasmed at times, but I didn't slow down at all the entire way.
Fighting George:
