Alyson

I told myself that I didn’t want to complain to you this time. So I won’t. In the midst of this Spring Break Depression, I have found my mind carrying my body places that it probably wouldn’t have gone otherwise. My upstairs has the power to obliterate me; it can also make me believe that I can run four miles again, and promptly directs my body to do so.

It’s not fun. My body despises running. My mind loves it. So that’s what we do, us three. It’s glorious when I use my inhaler right and death doesn’t seem imminent upon every little incline. I can pretend that it’s working, just so I can get over the hill. I used to have flashbacks about cross country running. I didn’t understand why running had become so hard when I’d been trained to run for so long; anxiety paves the lungs like cement.

Unlike the other worlds I live in, running just wants me to get to one place. The return. Just be a boomerang. At some point, I started doing so much hard stuff that I sacrificed the pain of running just to be doing a simple task again. Also, it’s so natural. Just you and your body (and that dang mind). ♦