07 beneath my feet 

The long run doesn’t care.  It doesn’t care that you’re tired, that you’re scared, that you’re angry, that you didn’t sleep well, that you have a tweaky muscle in your left foot, that you didn’t have time for your short runs during the week.

The long run is 2 or 3 or 4 hours of you with only yourself for company.  There is no internet, there is no phone, there is no family, there is no job on the long run.  There is you and the miles ticking by and that’s it.  The long run is the trail, the sweat, the sky overhead and the mind becoming more and more empty.

The long run is confession, absolution, and penance, all in itself.  The long takes whatever you bring with you and grinds it down into nothingness.  The long run absorbs.  The long run cleanses.  The long run shows you how insignificant whatever it was really is.

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