Running

The psych ward was, of course, the psych ward. Mildly draining, kind of taxing. While I was driving home, I hit a nail and the tire blew. I pulled into a parking lot and dug around in the trunk to find the jack and everything that I needed. I can change a tire, but not quickly, and it's a lot harder in the dark. I was thinking how vulnerable it is to be out there, bent over with your head down while you're concentrating, and just then some guys from the bar next door decided to come over and be friendly. And I don't want to be friendly. I decided to bail on the car and send Luke back to fix it, and I was close enough to home that I decided to just walk it. After a block or so, walking seemed like a waste of time, so I began to run.

This is what I have decided about running, because it's satisfying but not fun. Running isn't so that you can fit into your clothes or keep your muscles strong. Running is to help prepare you for a time when you find yourself stranded in the middle of a dark city, and you need to run home. Going for a run is emergency preparation. And I like it. I like hearing my own breathing in my ears, and feeling how naturally my body moves. We were born to run, and I think that we have forgotten how.