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[Jun. 20th, 2009|05:37 pm] |
The Last Time I Was This...
Carefree and Running At Dusk, I was a kid, belting through five acres of Central Victorian bush down tracks made by wallabies. Dusk had painted everything navy blue and I was hurtling over blurry sticks and scrub, dodging trees growing in wrong places, my feet bouncing off the ground and feeling like they were responsible for compacting the clay. I ran simply because I wanted to be going towards the yellow glow of Home faster, to throw myself in front of the fire, put my face as close as I could and feel my cheeks rush from winter-chill to burning hot. I was light and knew nothing of breathlessness or burden.
This evening I ran for a kilometre because I ought to, I should, because it would be good for the three things that mattered the most to me: my brain, my blood and my bones. For a kilometre I breathed cold air in--in--out--out-- in time to the sound of my feet on the wet cement. For a kilometre I left my body and let it push itself along, working out its kinks and aches, my eyes on the horizon and my legs liquid.
After a kilometre I was over the Glebe Point Bridge*, somewhere in Pyrmont, half-lost and shortsighted. It was here that I first stopped caring. I sprinted up a steep rise because if there's anything I hate more than running up a hill, it's walking up one. And I bolted across the road when the greenman started beeping because it was fun to pretend to be running into traffic.
Beside the Fish Market**, with the sun suddenly gone and the world that same navy blue, I burst into a sprint, a run, a dance, rain spitting on me and I was smiling, laughing, bounding over puddles and swatting overhanging gum leaves with my palms. My chest burnt, my legs didn't exist but I just wanted to be Home quicker, to have cheeks warmed by my $30 electric heater. I knew about breathlessness and burden but it didn't touch me because I was too fucking fast. So fucking fast. And so fucking light.
photo of how i feel by erinsaysgo2jail
- Tegan
* also known by some as the ANZAC Bridge, but not by me.
** Similar to steep hills in terms of the appeal of casual stroll vs running away from. |
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| Comments: |
I'm glad you posted this because I thought about you this afternoon for nooooooo reason and I really missed you a lot.
!! Somehow you fell off my friends list! sjdklfjsdfs I was wondering where you'd disappeared to, but we were both right here :)
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