13:27:11

Awake at 6:30am with no alarm is a strange thing. The night before I changed my alarms from 7am to 9am saying I wouldn’t start running yet; thinking my 2am bed time would seal this deal. But yet I was awake. Realizing Ashley wouldn’t be calling for at least another three hours I decided I was running today. Just to the bus station and back, about a mile. I got dressed. I kept the same boxers and big red sleep shirt on but covered them with gray sweat pants almost too short and a very loose pale sea-foam green zip up hoodie.
I ascended up the stairs to eat some yogurt; I needed something or my weak stomach would vomit from lack of nutrition. My battle scarred skate shoes fit awkwardly for a run. Once in line for a rave someone asked me how I got my shoes so thrashed. I replied half-joking with my friends, “I walk hard.” I said my good-byes to my mom and my dog. She said she’d probably be gone when I got back. I’m not sure if she thought I was going for a long run or if running a mile would take me that long.
I descended down my monster hill which my friends hate walking, I usually tell them, “Try it everyday.” My ankles winced with slight pain knowing what I was about to do. I found no good music to blast as in my ear buds to motivate my running; I settled with Pinback but changed it many times during my adventure. I crossed the street starting the stop watch on my cell phone and a steady jog. I made it to the corner where Bean Creek and Blue Bonnet meet before having to rest a bit with a slow stride down the beginning of a subtle hill. My lungs were a flame and twitching with shards of glass. I always blamed a case of namonia and bronchitis I had in the 6th grade for my bad lungs. For the first time I accepted I’m really just out of shape. Sure I had lung damage from my 6th grade sickness, health nuts might also argue some slight damage from smoking (not that I believe I’ve smoked enough of anything for that), and sure I’d sprained my ankles about 6 times throughout JR. High but I’m also over weight and never very athletic.
I thought of all this as I slowed down to a slow stride again reaching the bus station sign. I reached to check my time but as I feared, my cell phone had fallen out of my pocket. I started back looking for the $400 dollars I had essentially dropped. I found it close to a drain with some slight superficial damage to a corner, still it working condition thankfully. I stopped the time it was still running and debated finishing my run. I walked back to the sign and started again at full speed. I reached my half way point to stop my time and to catch my breath. My lungs hurt and I spit everywhere. I went into the bathroom and swished some water in my mouth knowing better than to drink the tap in this part of the county.
I started both my jogging pace and time reaching the bottom of the subtle hill where I started the rest of the way home with a walk. I was slightly defeated. It started to mist up a bit witch I thought was slightly metaphoric in more ways than one. A quarter ways up my hill I realized I hadn’t stopped my timer. 13 minutes, 27 seconds, 11 milliseconds. Considering every mile I ever recorded was 20 minutes with no effort put forth I was somewhat happy. And I could honestly knock off about 2 minutes of my time from having to retrieve my phone and walking up my hill.
At home my mom was still home and I went into my room to undress and lay in bed with my dog that cuddled up with me apathetically. I was in pain, my lungs and throat for the most part; my ankles were thankful but I wasn’t. I coughed harshly like I was trying to get rid of any namonia that was somehow still left in my lungs. I said goodbye to my mom and dog and hopped in the shower. I decided I’d stick to the elliptically machine upstairs and lifting weights.
I had no reason to run; I didn’t even plan on it. It wasn’t to get into shape because after 3 minutes of running I knew I wouldn’t be doing it again for awhile unless needed; those days of running from cops are behind me for the most part though. I wasn’t doing it for Ashley, the girl who I’ll start seeing when she comes back to town in two weeks. The last time she saw me I was visibly heavier and she thought I was cute then so I had nothing to really worry about there; besides the normal teenage worrying that is. I did it for me. I wanted it so I did it. It’s a nice feeling.