My running compadre.

The day I really want to run, I can run barefoot. Up a hill. In a saree.

With my hair untied. With no caps or sunglasses or sunscreen.

The day I really want to run, I can run in 5 inch stilettoes with no platform.

On a cobblestoned pathway….

The day I really want to run, I can run on an empty stomach.

 While fasting during Ramadhan….

The day I really want to run, I can run in pouring rain. Or sizzling heat.

Or in the stifling humid, sea breeze… sweating a gallon a minute.

I can run with and without anything. And everything……

Except….

MUSIC.

It is my one vice. One weakness. My failing. My strength.

Music eggs me on. Pushes me faster and farther.

It lifts my sprits. Makes achy muscles sing and stretch.

Makes a heavy, huffing, hard- working heart light.

Help my lungs expand and fill…with air. With joy.

My earbuds become my lifeline. My music my drug.

It wills time to stop boring me. Bothering me.

It distracts my mind as it counts the treads.

Beats the voice, asking me to stop and rest. To give up. Give in…

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