Among other things, for me, camp means running laps.
Competitive swimming gave me a predilection for several things I guess, but two of them were repetition and a clear breakdown of split times in a long bout of exercise. Sure, at camp the roads are quiet and I could be travelling through a variety of backdrops and vistas but then I wouldn't know how long any individual leg of the run should take.
Here is the track I run on, encircling one of the few grass soccer fields in Korea. Sorry for the amateur stitching of photos.
I am on pace for twenty-five km a week and hugely proud of myself.
Near the end of my runs ...wait, at the beginning of my runs, there is nothing to be proud of. As an old man, the first two km are ludicrously stumbling and flailing until my legs stretch out enough to run like a human being. Anyway, at the end of my runs, I have frequently misjudged how much energy I have to spare. This makes the final laps a struggle.
I used to tell myself to hang on. I decided that wouldn't do for this camp. I don't want to struggle to the finish, I want to be tall and strong through the final kilometre. to this end, I now tell myself to thrive. It may seem corny - as I write this, it really seems corny, but if it gets me through a few runs, it is worth it -saying it, that is, maybe it will never be worth it for posting it online.
Anyway, it's 8:40 and I have to get to bed soon to hit the track at 6:00 tomorrow. Time to finish letters to parents.