Run

Run.
Run.
Run.
Faster.
Faster.
Not fast enough.

Whenever I am, for a lack of a better word, "frazzled," I just have to run sometimes. Normally I'm a talker. I'll call my sister or my mother and just vent to get off my chest what's bringing me down.
There are those situations, though, where words will not do my inner frustration justice- when I know attempting to talk about it will only stir more confusion and frustration so there's no point in bothering.

It's situations like these that just get my heart pounding.
Everything in me is unsettled.

I could cry.
I could scream.
I could sleep.
Anything to distract from the frustration.

Running is always the best cure for claustrophobic times like these.

I'm not a good runner, to say the least. I'm sure my technique is all sorts of wrong and clumsy and graceless.
I have a heart condition that doesn’t take well to running- a lot of the times, especially when I’m upset.
But this only fuels the growing flame of aggravation in my chest.

So I run farther.
I run harder.

I run until all my brain can comprehend is thirst and exhaustion.

This temporary numbing is peaceful.

It releases the tension my muscles have collected.
It forgets the nonsensical anger my imagination has created.
It brings me back to reality where I can see how great of a life I have.

It’s a natural high that at the same time is grounding.

Run
Run
Keep running
Just a little farther
Just a bit harder
This, you can do
This, makes sense