run, run

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It’s late, the dusk beginning to creep over the pavement like a fog. It’s quiet, the silence held taunt like a tent.

My shoes beat out a quiet rhythm on the pavement, not audibly, but I can feel it.

Sometimes I feel like moments like this are the only time my mind is clear. I don’t think at all. Or I think in a steady bubbling stream whose fitful jumble begins to cull out logic. Or I pray.

Someone starts a lawn mower, pricking the silence like a pin.

Running is one of the few times I listen to dub step and electronic music. For some reason it fits. The pulse of the beat is driving, all-encompassing. It is like stepping to an alternative world. It distracts me from the heavy temptation to stop.

I’ve always liked hills. That seems like an unlikely preference, but they are a rift in the boredom of the flats. They are a challenge I like to pose to myself.

“I love running. I’m not into marathons, but I am into avoiding problems at an accelerated rate.
” – Jarod Kintz

This is the only time when avoiding problems works.


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