Athletic shorts, a t-shirt, and running shoes, Jim walked across the school grounds. It was after school ours, after the cross-country season. He had his clear water bottle in his bag. The track was empty. This was both good and bad. Jim didn't mind running in front of people. He didn't think about it anymore. And he regretted running on a track, rather than training on terrain. He shrugged it off. He set down his bag, stretched out a little. He yawned really big, too. Then he started to run, letting his legs carry him around the track.
This was the part that he loved the most. Running, lengthening his strides. Letting his legs go until they strained, knowing he could fight the tentsion until he could just run, ignoring all pain, ignoring the burning in his lungs. Sweat built up on his forehead, trickling down his face, down his neck and back. It was gross, but it was exhilerating.
Lena walked out onto the track and headed for the bleachers. She sat down on the bottom row and pulled out a small leather bound journal, she opened it and started to write in it. She sighed and looked around, it was so empty, and quiet...except for the boy running around the track. She looked to see if it was anyone she knew and it wasn't so she waved just to be friendly and then continued to write in her book.
The Pace moves faster
Almost like an Eagel in the sky
The faster the warrior runs
the higher he get in the air
he is flying now
his mind is clear and open
the weight on his shoulders lifted
he is free.
She wrote a small poem for the guy running and then she looked at him and sighed, "Its like he's almost flying. I wish I could let things go so easily..."
James kept his pace, able to keep himself from faltering. It was running every other day for months during his freshman year, every other day bleeding into every day his sophomore year, and running now every day, this being his junior year, that kept him in shape. He continued to run around the lined ring, letting his mind wander. He did some of his best thinking while he ran.