*I’m new to jogging and I’ve only given it a go a few times over the summer, and so far this is what I’ve gotten out of it. Pictures and an eagerness to take more pictures.
I’ll never be a runner.
I don’t think I’d make it a kilometer straight without my knees giving in or my breath running out. Is that even far? That’s obviously nothing for regular runners. I lack endurance. Admittedly, I’m unfit for that mile. How far is a mile anyway? Again, probably nothing for tight marathon racers and neon-colored joggers. If anything, my attention span’s too short to keep my head looking straight and out into a horizon that coincides with the length of the mile runners are supposed to be on.
I see no horizon. I see the sights above, below, and all around me. And those to me consist of my all-encompassing horizon that is here, there, and everywhere with each formless stride my trainers make, one in front of the other. And my inconsistent pauses to take in some air and switch to another song are opportunities to take mental photographs of the houses I pass. My head’s in the clouds and if not, my eyes are set at determining the hues of green, lightly patched and huddled over this village I grew up in. I’m hoping to pick up some twigs and fallen leaves along the way. A part of me wishes to be on a bicycle instead.
But I have a new found appreciation for my neighborhood landscapes, the occasional squirrel sightings, and mostly the new sights and smells that now accompany some old tracks on my jogging playlist. It’s a change of scenery I can put on loop.
Come cloudy days, I think I’d like to go on more walks, and maybe five minute jogs in between.