Peggy

My trainers feel nice and right on my feet (there is a theme there). I have my earphones on. As I come out of the kitchen door into the garden, the air is warmer than I expected for an October late afternoon. The afternoon is drawing to a close but it is still light. The air feels muggy. I am glad I chose to wear a t-shirt to run. 

 

As I start running in the street, rousing music playing on my phone, I can hear a shout behind me. Are they calling me? I don’t know but I am on a mission so I just keep going. As I round the corner of my street, I can smell fried food. Is someone having trash dinner like I will have later? This is one good thing about running, it compensates ever so slightly for all the rubbish I eat. But I also like running because of how it makes me feel, on a good day. 

 

As I am wearing earphones, I can’t hear myself but I suspect passers-by are treated to a lot of huffing and puffing and heavy breathing. But I like how my cheeks start to burn, how my t-shirt starts to cling to my skin as the sweat begins to seep through my pores. I like how my breathing gets heavier but falls into a comfortable rhythm that I know will keep going for a while.

 

Later my legs will feel loose and heavy and will enjoy being stretched on the sofa. 

 

I soon, on a good day, reach the beach. Today it is still and mist hangs over the sea. The saltiness in the air mixes with the saltiness on my face. People are walking their dogs. I can hear car engines through the music, as they drive past. The sea is in greys and blues, but the sand has a light orange tinge to it, reflected from I don’t know where. Some cars now have their headlights on. It will soon be night and I run back now, in the dusk, watching people arrive home for the evening. I long to be home too now and as I walk through the back door, desperately trying to liberate my swollen feet from my too tight trainers, I am assaulted by the indoor heat.