Running for the pain, to escape the pain, to free the pain. For the sweat, for the burn, for the after-burn. For the mindlessness that leads to noticing– thighs are becoming tan as limbs become mechanical, feet graze the asphalt– it is hot. For the rhythm of steps, for the rhythm of pace, for the rhythm of being. In circles we run to our own music, and to others’ music we choose to let in.

As I ease to a stop I think– whatever happened to running just for the hell of it?


1 Comment (+add yours?)

  1. Mia Fermindoza
    Jul 27, 2011 @ 21:53:51

    Who knows? I do my best thinking when I’m running. I do my best running when I’m thinking. Oh life.


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