One Love

It all starts with that first stride

Tempo, fartlek, sprint, jog, interval

It doesn’t matter.

With every passing second

Every footstep on the pavement

My speed elevates; I begin to anxiously crave more oxygen.

Sweat starts to pour down my face, drenching every inch of skin.

I glance at my watch; I need to pick up the pace.

I’m almost there, almost to my destination.

The relieving sight of the finish line meets my eyes.

One last sprint, one last surge of speed will get me there.

My mind tells me to stop, but stopping now would be too easy.

This is no longer about running, but the heart one must have to pull through.

I make my final step, a mix of pain and relaxation takes over my body.

My legs exhausted, my lungs burned, my mouth dried.

But that’s what keeps me coming back time and time again.

This is my therapy.

My drug.

My one love.