run, life

Recently, I started running again.

For me, there are a lot of things that I feel compelled to do. Running is just that. I haven't gained much happiness from running, but I think running should be one of the things I want to do. Before the pandemic, on Saturday mornings, I would sometimes get up early and hike 30 minutes to a Park Run on the hill next to Bristol. A group of unknown people, running 5 kilometers along the mountain road, already feels like a very magical thing. In the quiet morning, running from the foot of the mountain to the top of the mountain, heavy breathing, chaotic footsteps, dragging feet, in a trance, it seems that my soul is separated from the body. Running consumes physical strength, but the brain cannot stop for a moment. He was right above my head, the out-of-body spirit, telling me chicken soup that ghosts don't believe in, and then I persuaded my feet to stick to the top of the mountain. When he ran down from the top of the mountain, he began to plan your life again, and those thoughts that disturbed you to sleep in the middle of the night when you were young, coaxed out all of a sudden. Maybe it's this feeling that makes me not like it much, but I can't let go of running. "If you can stick to such a boring thing as running, you will be successful too." Running offers a different kind of comfort. When I go for a run, I often hear people say that less than 1% of people in this city are likely to run. Yes, we always need a belief that encourages each other. With or without a partner, take every step on your own. Running is not the loneliest sport, but it must be a more ego sport.

I was in Hong Kong that year. Every morning, I walk along the long pedestrian bridge from Whampoa Street, cross the Hung Hom MTR Station, and go all the way to the Polytechnic University. A whole section of the road is in a closed footbridge. It was crowded and full of people working. Like me, everyone doesn't seem to know each other. In the crowded crowd, not a single greeting or a single voice could be heard. For a few minutes, the only sound of untidy footsteps, amplified by the reflections of the four walls, was loud and messy. In it, I can't hear my own footsteps, but my ears are full of messy footsteps. Crowded people, going to different destinations along the same road. Just like a stranger you meet on a journey, no matter how close you are, it is not a companion. Such chaotic footsteps, I had never heard before. So clear footsteps, like walking on my heart. After I left Hong Kong, I never heard of it, and I will never forget it.

I think that every life is lonely. Maybe, just by chance, the moment you saw someone else's highlights. When you can't see, a person always has to walk through the crowd, in the noise of footsteps, to his destination. Running this lonely sport, let yourself stop, talk to yourself, learn to reconcile with yourself, learn to wait.

Sending the kids to school in the morning and seeing an advertisement on the body of a manicured garden service, for no reason, can end this article:

Every garden is a seed waiting to bloom.

Every garden is a seed, waiting to bloom.