Dialogue: Sunday Run

Go.

God it's cold. My feet. My legs. My lungs. Already? Already.

Mmmh, steam on the grass, dew on the trees-I'm glad I came out, I'm glad I'm moving, I like this.

Click.

There they are, my legs, hanging off my hips, I feel them. Where is moola bandha? Is that it? Why are my arms moving like that? Do everyone's arms do that when they run? Look at that runner, he's not moving his at all. He's gliding, he's sailing, you should do that.

Stop moving your arms.

Oh forget it, let them swing.

Hi lungs, yes you. Yes I forgot that feeling. Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale. Can I smooth that out? Breathe slower. Close your mouth. Inhale, exhale-foooo, that's hard. Trying again, Inhale, Exhale-

Bah, forget it, just breathe. Be happy you're breathing. Feel that. I do.

The river, we're here. HA. You made it, you're finished! You're halfway.

You're too f'ing pragmatic.

You're so idealistic. Who do you think you're kidding?

Where are my thoughts? Look where you're going.

Feel this, be here, be here, be here-HERE I am! Tree, slap, leaves, smack, bench, slap, clouds, smack, in, out, in, out, river, river, river, river, ahhhhh.....

Flowing, ebbing, bobbing, breathing, living, dying one little death every second, reborn, airborn,

I have no fear, I feel NO fear,

The possibilities are endless,

Jump.

No, but I can feel the sensation just the same.

Surging with each step closer to an invisible ledge; I feel that plunge, rush, that belly-up laughter, nothing but pure joy. The immortality of a pulsing heart and a jagged pant, throbbing each moment of my life into existence and winking it back out again.

I am a timeless motion.

I am poised on the drumming of my own two feet.

Breathe.

I AM.