Running Around Town, Part 4

I step onto the beach and turn right to run into the wind. On my left, the surf. Ahead is an unoccupied stretch of sand and, in the far distance, the lighthouse.

My first few strides are short and tentative as I get a feel for the loose sand under my bare feet. First aide tape is wrapped around my big toes for protection. Soon my legs and lungs are pumping. Waves pounds the sand. My feet pound it, too; four steps for each wave. Now five. Six. Watch out for broken shells. Jellyfish. Breathing heavy now, in and out like waves, misty salt air in my nose, a salty residue on my sunglasses blurring my vision. My salty sweat coming down on my glasses, too. In the sky ahead, a big hazy ring around the sun.

I turn and put the sun and the wind at my back, waves crashing on my right now. Spy the water tower, my landmark. Pick up the pace. The surf and my breath are the only sounds. Faster. And now just my breath. The words drain from my mind and there's an emptiness, expanding, carrying me with it. Carrying me.