Running

Running and I have a love/hate relationship
(To be honest, Matt almost fell over when I told him I was going for a run.)

It was a Wednesday. And it was beautiful.
Soft socks, tank top, and yoga pants: I was a runner before I even left.
I stretched outside, submerging my body in the physical mentality.
Cool air—anticipating the rain and the almost-November
(and then Daniel came out of his apartment, and insecurity came rushing to attack the intruder of my solitude so I kept stretching until he left me)
…Alone.
No turning back.
I kept my footfalls gentle, pace slow:
 Tp tp tp tp tp.
The pavement was damp and I’m sure my footsteps were echoing somewhere.
 Innnnnnnnn (through the nose). Out (two three).
I kept breathing.
Tiny specks of water prickled my shoulders
Keep running.
Breath tightened. Heart Pounded.
Tp tp tp tp tp
My weakness began to burn.
So I walked
And noticed.
I’ve never felt so still while moving
Or so moved by slowing down.
The world paused with me, poised in thought and strolling by.
A gnarled fir tree suddenly felt like Christmas
(we don’t get those in Florida)
but it was time to reclaim my pace
tp tp tp tp tp tp
out-of-the-road-caution-car
(what if he stops and comes towards me?)
::shake the thought::
Keep running.
Tp tp tp…tp..…tp.
The garbage cans sparkled with raindrops
Garbage bins? beautiful?
One more sprint and I’m home!
Dust off the raindrops and curl up.

I love running, but next time I’ll probably forget.