Laur's Blog, Volume 9: An Elegy for Running

Before

I wish I could still run.

I miss going on side quests. I miss the days when my friends and I would drive around for hours. I miss ending up in random fields with them. Fields filled with bees, butterflies, birds, bunnies, and even deer. Fields that we'd frolic in.

We'd run for hours.

We'd take our shoes off. We'd ground ourselves in our environments. We'd make friends with the bees, we'd soar with the butterflies. We'd sing with the birds, hop with the bunnies. We lived in peace with the deer, with the world around us. We were all one. We were all free.

The Sprains

I can't run anymore.

I stopped frolicking when I started spraining my right ankle. I stopped looking for empty fields with my friends. I stopped chasing something bigger than I was. I wish I could still run into the sunset. I wish I could still fade into the world around me. I wish I could find a field of comfort.

I am somewhere in between. I am lost in a memory, distraught by my reality. I am caught up in the middle of what's real and what's fake. I don't want to believe what is happening. I fear that in the decline of my health, I will lose my whimsical nature. I wonder if I'll ever be able to frolic again. I long for the ability to run.

The Things I Can't Outrun

When things got scary as a kid, I'd run to the cranberry bogs. I'd bike off into the sunset. I'd find a field to frolic in. It's a damn shame that getting older means getting sicker. It's a shame that I can't run, I can't hide. I can't escape.

I hate everything that falls under the "inevitable" category. I hate that we had to move away from the cranberry bogs. I hate that I got older, sicker. I hate that this was bound to happen. Sometimes, I close my eyes, and I am in a field. I am friends with the bees. I can fly as high as the butterflies, and I sing in tune with the birds. I dance in harmony with the bunnies and the deer. I run. I frolick. I am at peace again. I am free.