On the run

I just want to run. Want to look up straight, shed my inhibitions, embrace the road in its solitude, keep breathing, listening to my heart beat – I want to run. As I run, I want to teach my legs the forgotten art of putting one foot in front of the other. It’s as natural as a reflex. And yet it has managed to sink in oblivion.

While I run, I want to push myself to the limits. Want to set things in motion. Want to start a momentum in this otherwise static universe. And while I’m at it, I just want to enjoy the rush of blood. Inhaling the smell of my body as it begins to sweat. And as my muscles begin to tire, I just keep repeating the act of putting one foot in front of the other, like an insensitive machine, programmed to repeat the same commands again and again.

While I force my body to this, I experience a strange kind of bliss. As the noises of the street seems to disappear, the echo of my heart beat runs through my veins so loud and clear that my ears can grapple only that one sound. My eyes try to focus as it is threatened by the overflow of sweat which my eyebrows are struggling to keep a hold at. With every alternate step my body rises and falls. Rises and falls. Each time my body rises I feel that my spirit has been set free. And each time it falls I feel the stillness – necessary to take the next step.

As I slow down, exhausted and breathless, an unknown old lady rewards me with a smile. I humbly accept it and smile back at her. Maybe the gods have just acknowledged my act. As I retire, I learn that the past doesn’t matter anymore. It’s always the next step that counts.


~ by rb on July 24, 2008.

2 Responses to “On the run”

  1. Beautifully written.

  2. Thanks Bette! All the best for your Senior Olympics!

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