I run.

I can feel the burning in my legs. The heat. The fire. My knees ache. My heart throbs. I step through it. Just another quarter of a mile. No, I can do another half mile. I don't want to leave an odd number at the end, I'm finishing the mile to make it even. I need it and I crave it. Just a little further to get the high. I know I can make it. Iv done it before. If iv done it before I can do it again. Iv strained the muscles in my legs. I can feel the tightness and the pull when I try to straighten my knees. If I stop now, though, it means Iv quit. And quitting means losing. I can't lose. Not against myself or anyone else. There are expectations to uphold. Miles and an image. Fake smiles. The Dean's List. But Iv done it before so I can do it again.

I am haunted to know why I run. Towards or away. To and fro. Back and forth. Freedom or imprisonment. Running to escape. Running to find. I feel dizzy. There is a pull to just let go. Be care free. But I like the burn. There is a guilty pleasure in exhaustion.

But it cannot sustain. I just can't do it forever. Today I walk.