I opened the front door and took a step into the crisp cold air.
My whole body was instantly hit with a chill.
Looking at my watch, the reading said two degrees Celsius.
“At least it’s not freezing.” I told myself as I lifted my head up.
As I saw the consistent, fine but thick drizzle of rain,
I cursed.
But a drizzle like this one would only make the run slightly uncomfortable;
Such discomfort would not stop me from running.
I went out the front yard and took my first steps.
The rain was gently tapping on my sweater,
But it would get absorbed quickly by the cotton textile.
I started with a steady pace, my legs felt strong;
Strong enough to tackle this lengthy route,
Which I ran more than ten times in the past year or two.
Continuing my stride, I propelled myself forward;
Meanwhile staying on course.
My body started to warm and my heart began to race.
The blood was flowing and perspiration began to ooze from my hair follicles.
Yes, my armpits and groin were starting to sweat
And probably starting to stink too.
I kept pace until approximately the fifteenth or sixteenth kilometer.
At which point my sweater was completely soaked.
Soaked by sweat from inside out and rain from outside in.
At which point my socks and shoes were totally wet.
Wet by the splashing of numerous puddles along my path.
At which point my hands were almost frozen.
Almost frozen by the stinging chill of the surrounding air and the cold rain.
At which point my legs were completely drained.
Drained by continuously propelling my body forward for well over an hour.
At which point my mind was emptied.
Emptied by directing all my focus and energy to the act of running.
At which point,
I lost pace and became slower.
But there was another seven kilometers to run.
I was still seven kilometers from home.
The run must continue for me to get home.
My leg muscles grew more painful with each additional step.
My breath became heavier with each stride forward.
My heart pounded harder with each meter gained.
While suffering from this familiar yet arduous routine,
I tasted something salty in my mouth.
Must be the mixture of sweat and rain rolling into my mouth.
I also tasted something salty in my mind.
Must be the mixture of losing pace and feeling weak getting to my head.
I reminded myself of the numerous times that I had completed running this route.
I told myself that giving up and walking home is not an option.
I assured myself that this will be all over soon.
I promised myself of the sense of accomplishment waiting for me at the finish.
And so I kept on laboring forward;
At times limping;
At times stumbling;
At times faltering;
But never stopping.
I started to focus my mind on the rhythm of my heart.
I adjusted my breath to follow the heart’s tempo;
And also adjusted my steps to follow my breath’s pace.
Enduring the fatigue and the exhaustion,
I continued on my path towards the finish set in my mind.
Huff, puff, step, step.
Huff, puff, step, step.
Huff, puff, step, step.
Huff, puff, step, step.
With the finish in sight,
I increased my speed as much as I could.
Taking bigger steps and larger strides,
I sprinted towards the finish with every bit of energy left within me.
As I reached the finish spot,
I became not only drenched in rain and sweat;
I was also drenched in senses of relief, satisfaction, and accomplishment.
Although too out of shape to pursue a record time,
The twenty-three kilometers of running was ultimately completed.
Keeping in mind the run was just a short training exercise for a marathon,
I lowered my head,
Cursed,
And walked home.
@gnilma
2023.02.22
