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My world becomes a blur of yellow and green as I jog past the forsythia flowers blooming alongside the road. Every ounce of my willpower is pushing each foot forward as it pounds against the pavement.
On earlier, chillier days I focused my attention on breathing. Every few strides, I’d inhale deeply through my nose and exhale through my mouth. I’d sort of get into a meditative state, as much as was possible while fighting the constant urge to stop, the rhythmic whoosh of breath and thumping feet lulling me into a state of submission.
Now the sun is starting to cook the earth. When I breathe in I might be filled with the sweet scent of flowers, but more often I get a stinky surprise like burning charcoal, exhaust fumes, or fresh dog shit. I stop using my nose to breathe, and I’m panting like a dog.
I miss the desensitized nose I had when I used to smoke and I wonder how Gracie’s doggie nose can deal with it all.
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I was a runner, until I started having physical difficulties. But I ran in the countryside and loved the smell of the fresh air and the air in the evening when the sun was setting. That was my favorite time. Years and years ago, though, I ran in the city. Not nearly as pleasant. Thanks for sharing.
Thanks for taking the time to read and reply Jeanne. I guess I should consider myself lucky, I’m somewhere in between city and country… some flowers are better than none! Sorry you can’t run anymore =( You can still smell the fresh air at sunset though, right? =)