I feel like I am going to pass out. My lungs are on the brink of bursting. My heart is about to blow up. I can taste the sweat from my forehead trickle down into my mouth once again. Everything around me is still, but I keep running. It’s only me, myself, and the ground beneath me. This is my release, my passion.
My subculture takes place outdoors, completely engulfed by nature. Whether on a track, the streets, or the rough terrain of a forest preserve, I run for fun, I run for myself. Many people do not understand why or how I find fun in this rigorous type of activity. When I am running, I do not think, I just run. It is here that I am able to discover what my mind and body, as one, can tolerate and endure. I do not run to win anything tangible, I run to push myself harder than I ever have before, each time constantly breaking new goals that I have set for myself.
When I run, I put my entire self into it. I push my muscles to the point of complete exhaustion, to the point where they feel like they will burst out of my own skin. I put my heart into it. I find comfort in knowing that I give it all that I have and knowing that I am better than I ever have been. It is a way of life that I put my blood, sweat, and tears into. The only opponent that I have is my mind; constantly telling me to keep going and to stop bitching. Listening to this voice pays off twofold in the end. I feel a sense of accomplishment after every ice bath I take and after every morning I wake up with muscle aches. Running is my subculture.
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2 comments:
I admire you for liking to run so much because I can't stand running!
I like the little poem you wrote at the beginning. It caught my attention. The blue font added to the vibe of your story. I used to be in cross country years ago. Good Bye.
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