So you run. You run through forests with trees far older than you’ll ever be, yet silent and unnoticed. That’s what happens to old things, you think. You run through glens gutted by the glacial insistence of ice. Geological pressure that you can somehow feel, because you also feel the crushing weight of time.
This is beautifully emotive and an article that invited me to go back and read several times, each time more slowly than the last. It has been a long time since a piece of writing has compelled me to do this.
You really captured the beauty of running. Such gorgeous lines! Thank you.
Poetry in motion! Thank you.
Jamie this is so good
"There’s a version of you that shivers at minor chills amidst four solid walls and a roof. You find this self vile. You hate the reliance on layers of comfort, built over years of swaddled nothingness."