When I was at school the only sports I ever enjoyed was running. I would keep on running, running & running. It was a way for me to escape everything & block the world out as my feet pounded the school field & my legs just kept on moving.
I joined the sports day team & was entered into every race that needed good runners. I flew. I loved it & I enjoyed the burning sensation in my lungs when i had crossed the finishing line. The one i enjoyed most was the 100 metres. Oh how i loved that race, for me it meant speed, determination & no fear. The wind would blow past my ears, my hair bouncing in its ponytail & my trainers keeping my feet grounded with each sprint my legs took.
The main sport i hated was hurdles, they would freak me out & i would panic i'd fall over the hurdles in front of everyone & hurt myself. I refused to do that race. Instead i put myself up for the relay team. I wanted to be the last runner, the one who had to push herself forwards to beat everyone. I loved the feeling of passing others as my legs just kept on going trying to catch any time we had missed round the track.
I keep having an urge to return to running, it was a sport i was actually good at & i should have kept it up over the years. i should try it out just once to see if my legs remember how to sprint & to feel that wind rush pass my ears again knowing the world is blocked out to my senses & that i can escape into my own running bubble.