It's a beautiful description of how running can help you find your balance again, during times of stress!
Fragment from Dear Killer
'On Sunday morning I went running. I wasn’t a runner, I never ran—but on Sunday morning I went running.
Somehow I felt like I needed to do it or I would itch myself out of my skin. I was restless. I needed to run, to get whatever was in me out—so I ran.
I wore those ugly tennis shoes my dad bought me last Christmas and a pair of completely unsuitable denim shorts because I didn’t have anything else. I ran through Chelsea and down to the Thames, and then alongside the Thames for a little bit, feeling the pounding of the cement against my feet, just running, running, running.
I needed to run or I felt like I was going to explode. The morning air bit into me, and I felt the cold running up and down my skin. I ran until my breath ran out and I was gasping for air and my legs felt like lead. And then I kept running, because I couldn’t stop, not yet. The burning, aching, ripping pain in my tired thighs and the sting of the air on my cheeks somehow relaxed me, soothed me, felt good. I let it all wash over me and wash everything away.
I ran. I ran. I ran.
I ran until I was so tired that I simply collapsed to my knees on the sidewalk, unable to run a second longer. I forced myself to stretch so I wouldn’t be sore the next day—or at least I wouldn’t be too sore—and then I hailed a cab to take me back home as the sun rose in the sky and everything else came awake.'
Isn't that beautiful?
I didn't particularly like the book. Except for this part. But if you're interested: Dear Killer is available at Amazon.com.
Don't miss any of my posts! Get yourself a free subscription, and you'll never have to worry about missing out!