I must run

As I write this the clock is about to strike 10AM. As I write this I feel ebullient, effusive, energetic. The hardships of life seem like a distant memory. There’s little pressure to achieve perfection in what I’m writing. I know it’ll turn out imperfect, as always. Fuck it. I feel too good for remorse.

Given that I’m on leave today, this isn’t a time for me to be doing anything. Heck, this isn’t a time for me to even be feeling anything. Except a dry mouth. My mouth is dry at 10AM on a holiday because I’m always sleeping at this time. Always. I often wake up thirsty and search for a bottle of water that I now duly keep right next to my bed. The dryness is a recent phenomenon. Maybe six month old. I have started snoring too, I’ve been told. I’m inclined to believe people have lied to me. The recorder caught nothing. Age is catching up. Fuck it. I feel too good for remorse.

I wasn't sleeping today. I woke up at 6 because I had to run. I just had to. 10km. 49mins. My fastest so far. I usually clock 10k in 59 mins. This must be a GPS measurement error. But then, the last 10k I ran, three days back, clocked 50 mins. Maybe it isn’t a GPS error. Maybe it’s time to kill the Murphy in me. It’s hard to do that. This post-run state of being is the closest I’ve gotten to it.

I have never been an early riser. There was never enough motivation. I used to wake up early sometimes for cricket matches back in class 8 and 9. It soon got boring and I went back to sleeping late. There is motivation now. I have to run feel this way again. I am tired of obsessing over things half-done, people I hate, actions I disagree with. I want to feel this way again, and I can’t if I don’t run. So I have to run. I must run. I must run to watch the sun come up. I must run to breathe the morning breeze. I must run to feel alive again. I must run to acquire a void. I must run to feel the twitch in my muscles. I must run to taste my sweat. I must run for the pain. I must run for the gain. I must run to get shit done. I must run to know that writing this matters more to me than watching and tweeting about the soporific budget speech. I must run to know myself.

I am not a born runner. I became one by chance. I’m here to stay back by choice.