what I think about when I think about running

I run to remember, and I run to forget.

04.29.20 6:16am, just past sunrise in Santa Monica, California

Photo by Robert V. Ruggiero on Unsplash

In the middle of the hazy morning mist, my shoes pounding a familiar rhythm against the pavement, I feel free.

I pull the headphones out of my ears. The fast-paced hip hop feels wrong in the quiet near-solitude of the early morning. The sunrise is hidden by the clouds, but I feel like the day has dawned with new possibilities.

I want to hear myself think this time. To hear the sounds of the city waking up.

The thing about rolling right out of bed and putting your running shoes on is that you seem to still be dreaming. I see myself as I am, I see myself from years past. I see myself as I could be.

I feel free, limitless, unstoppable for a moment.

The years stretch out on either side of me, like the road with its rolling hills. I’m overcome by nostalgia, brought on by the weather. I reminisce about the days when I’d wake up for school and find that the sky was blanketed with soft fog.

Or stepping out from early morning swim practice to find the same silver mist swirling around me, knowing that a few hours later, the sun would burst through with a vengeance…