Everyone says this is a beautiful post to read, but I hate reading a wall. Since OP hasn't edited it yet, I am putting in paragraphs for you:

It's night time, cold, the dark clouds block out any source of light in the night sky. It's raining lightly, your hair and face are getting wet along with your clothes, but you don't give a shit do you?

No, you're still going to go run, every thought, every worry, every moment disappears when you slip on your headphones and you step on the track. Each step you're further away from your starting point, every breath you're a little more tired, you could've stayed in. You could've sat home, and watched a movie or played a video game, jerked off, or maybe even thought about messaging that cute girl you know of right?

But you didn't, cause you don't give a shit.

You haven't ran a complete mile in years. Now all the sudden it's like you've fucking sucker punched all your systems awake, a years worth of smoking has your lungs fucking begging you to stop. But fuck what your lungs want. You tore your ACL recently, your legs tell your brain that you aren't ready for this yet, but fuck that, you've just completed a lap, you're gonna keep going.

As you past your starting point for the first time, parts of your brain that you've fed counterfeit dopamine from jerking off, or eating sweets, or doing drugs, they start to tell you that you should stop, just go home they say, your body screams in unison with this thought. There's something small though..something untouched by all the toxic shit, maybe it's your soul, maybe it's your fucking manhood, but it screams out louder then anything else, FUCK NO it says, and your body listens.

You're at over half a mile now, just two more fucking laps, somethings happening, you almost feel different. Your whole brain starts pushing your body. Faster it says, and faster you go, just another lap, you're almost there, just one more lap. You're in a dead sprint now. You're pushing your whole body to its very fucking limits now, just a few more yards. You finish, you're out of breath, your body hurts, but you fucking finished.

You smile in between breaths for air, then puke fucking every where. You wipe your mouth off, and promise you'll be back tomorrow for another ass kicking.

When you start something, it will definitely kick your ass, but you keep going, cause after so many ass kickings it doesn't hurt so bad, and then you start fighting back. This is the nature of progression and becoming a master of something. Don't quit. Keep fucking going, put down the sweets, pick up Dumbbells, don't listen to your body, it doesn't know shit, it's used to a comfortable life style.