i let myself think about it, i imagine threat and violence. and then it comes to me.
you know what; it's not my defect that turks are sexually frustrated and to a good extent, perverted. it is not my defect and has nothing to do with me, my shorts, or my running and the potential of my boobs bouncing. i don't have to pay attention to whatever is happening outside of me and i choose not to. no shame, no guilt, no feelings of self-consciousness, no frustration. just a great run by the sea.
the rest of it goes great.