Running

The ground always pushed back.

Half the time, it was the only thing that felt solid.

His breathing came in ragged bursts

In out. In. Out. In in in. Out for an extended release. Thoughts that were once racing by had slowed to a crawl in the face of this new, physical demand. Fights with friends suddenly irrelevant. He wasn’t going to apologize, he just didn’t see the point of the argument as his route unfolded.

There was no thought beyond what was needed. Breathing, scanning for ice, and looking cool. He might have been running, but he spent way too much on these shorts to be anything less than cool, socially speaking.

Halfway there. Initially, the five mile run was ludicrous. His body had almost given out on him the first time. Now, the moans and pains were like mile markers. Subconsciously, his brain made a note of each ache. It would check them off like an inspector with a clipboard.

Everybody should run, he thought. The world was trivial from this perspective. Hate didn’t help his muscles loosen or tighten. The anger of opponents wilted before the onslaught of concrete that met his feet. Mostly, he ran to calm down. It got the rage out. His colleague would understand his perspective one of these days. However, for tonight, this was enough.

At the bottom of the hill, his watch told him he had reached his goal. He was still working on running the five miles back. Today, his brain and his legs were tired. It would be a peaceful walk after a turbulent day.