where creative minds can interact
The rhythmic pounding of my feet on the rain-soaked pavement calms me as I push myself onward. I focus all of my energy on getting to the end of the long, dark, empty road. The lone streetlamp on this stretch flickered off during my run two nights ago and has yet to be repaired. I like it like this. It's just me, my lungs, my legs, and the pavement. The rain gets heavier as I get faster. My lungs burn as water pours down my face. Am I crying? It's hard to tell. It feels good to get it out. I feel free this early in the morning, or late at night. That's the nice thing about perspective.
It is sometime around 3am. I awake from an uneasy slumber, silently dress in my running clothes, and slip from the house into the darkness. I sit in the middle of the road and stretch before taking off, running until I am all but worn out, and then I begin the trek home. Sometimes I am gone thirty minutes; others, close to two hours.
When I return home, I sit against the garage and replay the run in my mind. I burn a map of the route into my brain as the darkness outside my home swallows me. Then I wipe the sweat from my brow, take a deep breath, and quietly re-enter the house. I climb the stairs to my room, fall wearily into my bed, and finally,
I can dream.
Written 24 February 2008
c.2008, Steen Krause