do we run faster when we're sadder?
i've always thought that i run faster when i'm sadder.
i find myself chasing this sadness sometimes when i run.
it's like when salt displaces water;
sadness is displaced by exertion.
yesterday felt different.
maybe it was the cooler autumn air,
or accidentally starting the run just as the sun was setting,
or feeling my feelings instead of intellectualising them,
or noticing the small things for what they are, and not for what they mean.
i now know what it was: i was being the closest version of my true self i could possibly be.
i remember just being in awe that i existed.
and that i could come back to the present moment if i tried hard enough.
that i could run faster and feel the whoosh of the wind flow through me.
there was nothing really stopping me.
what if i had to slow down sometimes?
was i feeling ashamed of not being a machine that never slowed down?
i decided to etch this in my mind:
no unrealised worry is worth the sacrifice of the whoosh.
i control the feeling of the whoosh.
wow, is this free will?
i haven't felt this fast or happy in a long time;
as i welcome myself into the present,
merely noticing.
🙫