(I wrote this in my head while I was running earlier, I hope you enjoy it.)
A slight breeze blowing coolly towards the East.
The sound of seabirds complaining.
The thick overtones of fermenting hops.
The pungent stench of rotting garbage.
Cars whizzing past.
Bustling streets filled with people who’s days have ended.
Correct your form. You’re plodding again.
Crickets signaling the quickly approaching dusk.
The dull slapping of rubber to concrete.
The rhythmic pattern of gasps for oxygen.
Slow your breathing, in and out, in and out
The searing sting of sweat streaming it’s way into my eyes.
That split time was slow, pick up the pace
The looks on the faces; mild disgust and curiosity and feigned fearlessness.
The sounds of ghosts in my head.
Laughing.
Scoffing.
Doubting my character.
My ability.
My resolve.
My strength.
They are laughing at you.
Pick up the pace.
The sounds of encouragement in my head.
Backflip it.
Do this for me.
Do this for yourself.
Win.
I know you can do it.
I believe in you.
You’re not even tired.
I am not even tired.
Four miles.
Just me and the city and the smells and my thoughts.
No music.
Just the road.
Just me and the road.
Just me and the road and you.
The haters and the lovers.
You keep me going.
-Drew
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