The Starting Gun Misfires

“Run! Run as fast you can. Get far from here”. Foot follows frantic foot. Every action now has urgent purpose. The trees rush towards and then away, first slowly and then in a quick blur as they pass the eye. The horizon bobs up and down with the rhythm of each stride.

Warm legs stiffen, the mouth opens, taking in greedy gulps of air. The mouth dries, dizziness follows. Each step becomes painful as swift paces degenerate into slow staggering steps. Stop. Hunched over, looking at the ground and gasping for breath.

The breathing slows, the pain in the legs fades. Thoughts collect, the head rises. Eyes dart around. “Out here you are alone”. Away from everyone you know. Here you are free. A new man, escaped from all obligations. A feeling of excitement creeps up from tired sore feet as the eyes scan the unfamiliar surroundings. Lips smile as the sun sets, eyelids close on the first day in the new world.

Tired eyes crack open on the 279th day in the new world. Though this world is hardly new, nor is it empty. A strong vibration moves a smartphone on a desk a small distance. Subsequent vibrations move it further still, edging it closer and closer to the edge. Every day, the spinning globe takes us around in a giant circle, only to leave us back where we started the next morning.

“Now what, genius?”. Should you have run the other way? It’s no use, you are stuck here, with yourself. Your self what you forgot to leave behind, what followed you here. Your habits, your feelings and your tendency to run, they are all in bed with you.

A tingle works its way across the arch, from the ball to the heel. The foot itches, deep inside a shoe, protected by a sock covering. In there, it cannot be scratched. Nor would scratching stop the itching. It wants to be run. Patience. Endure the discomfort. The world isn't ending just yet.

Actually these aren't my running shoes...