Ocean full of Secrets

Part I_8

15th of February 2014

Saki called to ask if I wanted to go running with her. She has a pretty tight exercise plan from her swimming coach, which includes swimming six times a week, running five times a week and strength training three times a week.

Usually I politely decline whenever she invites me to join her, because I'm not exactly what you would call a "sportsperson". In fact, I hate every kind of exercise except for maybe walking, if that counts.

However, this time I thought I could give it a try. After all, running is said to clear the head and that's exactly what I need right now. Especially after cleaning out my room didn't have the hoped for effect. So I said yes. And honestly, I had no idea what I was missing out on all these years. It was absolutely amazing. If you've never been running yourself, I can only recommend it with all my heart. It might still not have been equal to the screaming-off-mountain scenario in my head, but damn if it wasn't the closest to it I can imagine.

We started in front of my house and ran for 25 minutes straight until we reached the ocean. I was already completely out of breath by then and I have no idea how Saki could still look as if she just left the stylist after even talking constantly all the way, while I only responded with an occasional "hmm hmm" or "oh really?" and still looked like a sweating Uruk-Hai. I can't believe she sometimes runs as far as Arthur's Seat and back again. I can't even walk up there without thinking about finally joining a gym. Not seriously, but, you know, passingly. But I guess her athletic achievements don't come from nowhere.

Anyways, when we reached the ocean we both took off our shoes and socks and went ankle-deep into the water. It was freezing, obviously, it's February, and we're probably both going to catch a cold now, but we couldn't have cared less. I breathed in the cool winter's air and I felt the waves break against my feet and I felt alive.

I didn't care about what happened or didn't happen last month or about how we're probably both going to die from pneumonia soon, I only cared about the wind in my hair and the salt in the air and about now and about us. And for the first time in weeks I felt complete. Like there was for once nothing missing. I was whole.

During our run home my brain was again too busy with putting one foot in front of the other one and not forgetting to breathe at the same time, there was no room left for any other thoughts.

When I came home I first took a long relaxing bubble bath and now I'm sitting in bed, in my recently cleaned room, looking out at the freckled night sky. There is a beautiful quote by Vincent Van Gogh, which says, "I know nothing with any certainty but that the sight of the stars makes me dream." I couldn't agree more. Seeing this beautiful graveyard of stars that we call the night sky makes me wonder how I could ever doubt life's beauty and purpose. Looking up at those stars, dedicating there existence for the sole purpose of bringing light into our darkness, dying to shine for us, it is so beautiful and sad and I would do nothing rather than to get lost in them.

Yours,

Cassie