I've never liked running inside on treadmills. There is nothing to look at but the amount of time that has painfully passed since I began, or if running in front of a mirror, my knees. After watching them bend and straighten countless times, they begin to look strangely foreign to me, like they don't belong to me. After that weirds me out, I turn to my feet. The initially mesmerizing rhythm the humming treadmill forces me to adhere to, eventually gets a little old and I return to my knees, and so it goes.
It has been warm enough to run outside for a little while now and I never want to step on another treadmill.
I'm glad I don't know Rexburg that well yet. I can still run out into an unknown area and just get lost for a little while. I keep my phone with me and I usually know about where I am, but I LOVE not quite recognizing my surroundings as I run by them. When I know where I am and exactly how far it is from home, all I think about is how far I have left to go. It sucks the fun out of it entirely. When I'm surrounded by unfamiliarity I feel like I can just run forever, further and further into nothing. I can become lost in my imagination as well as my surroundings. I close my eyes for seconds at a time and try to just feel myself run. I sometimes think I could fall asleep while still pumping my legs. I remember times in my life that made me laugh, or smile. Then I wonder what the good people of Rexburg think about a girl running down the street with a smile slapped on her face. I imagine what people I know and love are doing at that moment. I imagine conversations I could potentially have with someone in the world. I think of ways I could have said or done things better. If I had the choice I wouldn't change much. I think about my future. I occasionally wonder and hope I'll somehow end up back at my dorm at the end of my run. I see things and wonder how they came to be, like a bench sitting on the sidewalk outside a wood shop. It's massive, looks like it's made out of a tree trunk, and costs $250.00. Who would buy that? I don't say that critically, I really would just like to meet the person who buys it. Other times I move my lips along to whatever song is playing in my ears. I sing along in my mind and make the appropriate facial expressions, which I suppose also looks fairly silly.
I speed up as I get closer to home. My legs hurt. I go faster. I feel fast, but I'm not. I run past the door and slow to a stop. I don't go inside right away, instead I collapse on the ground. I lay on my back with my hands behind my head and feel like I'm absorbing something, but I'm not sure what. Maybe it's the endorphins talking. I wait for my breath to slow, until all I can hear is my heartbeat, I actually feel it pumping. I lay in the shade and stare at whatever is directly above me, occasionally closing my eyes and thinking about how good this feels, until I start to get cold and stiff. I suck whatever pleasure is left out of the grass I'm laying on, then I pick myself, drag myself inside, and start a blog entry.
