Therapy, Thoughts, and Endorphines

Snow drifts slowly down from a dark sky. Streetlights provide secluded illumination and bare trees stand silent on the calm night. The snow stifles all sound in the world, as if it were trapped behind a glass wall.

Breath condenses around me in a silvery cloak, the sound of my breathing is loud in my ears. My feet stride forward in a smooth comfortable strides in time with my breathing. My bare feet make almost no noise in the fallen snow; fading footprints are the only evidence of my passing.

I look around me, and I feel alone in the world. There are no cars. There are no other runners. Just me. And I like it that way. Solitary nighttime runs are my therapy, the endorphins they release my drug. I turn around for another lap of the neighborhood; my thoughts still haven’t sorted themselves out. I need to figure out whether I’m running from something or towards something. I sigh and take a deep breath of frigid nighttime air. It’s still silent outside and I smile.

I can’t run long enough.

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