Wings.

As I lace up my running shoes for another run, I mentally prepare myself. I give little pep talks to myself. The first  quarter mile or so I am walking, gradually picking up the pace, slowly easing into it. I start to run, my new running shoes have not yet been broken in, so I am very aware of them on my feet. Faster and faster I go, the only sounds are my feet hitting the pavement and my breath, I feel free. Free from the stress of worrying about how the bills are going to be paid this month, free from the fact the laundry pile is growing, free from the demands of two very small people, free to run. I run faster and faster, I feel empowered, I am beautiful. My legs are stronger then the week before. I am in control. I can control this. My body responds to the run, sweat is running down my back and face, my breath comes quicker now, my lungs wanting a break. But I don't stop. I push myself. I can do this. I am in control. No one needs anything but me. I need this. I need the run. I feel like I am flying now, running, faster and faster. Then, my time is up, I gradually slow down, back down to a walk.My breathing returns to normal. I am back on the ground. Back to my duties. Back to my life. However I am still flying high.