Not gonna lie, threw this together really quickly so there's probably a ridiculous amount of errors lol.
I'm a little iffy on the topic too, so any feedback would be awesome.
Anyways:
When the car rounded the corner I sprinted through the cold air like a gazelle after its lunch, feeling nothing but the warmth of pure exhilaration. In the instance I was the runner in a game of Fugitive, and to me, nothing mattered more than the adrenaline pushing my body to reach the next hiding spot. I felt alert, simple, and motivated. I felt human. This is what matters to me.
In the midst of academic immersion I find myself, like many others, forgetting what it means to be human in the most fundamental of ways. I go to school, go to practice, go home, study more and practice more; my brain habituates. To break that habit I tease fear and venture out into the dark, allowing my basic senses to take over. As with Fugitive, a game of chase in the nakedness of night, I find myself on familiar streets but as a different person, a simple human, void of ambient tedium. In is in those moments that I realize stress is no more than a folly and come to peace with the joys of running wild, both body and mind.
My three close friends who, by the way are all cerebral studs, also join me in another breathtaking night adventure. At least once a month, we dedicate ourselves to scale the trails of a nearby park, Rancho San Antonio. As cross-country runners, we are all accustomed to the paths as a result of hundreds of miles of sweat and dust. However, at midnight, Rancho becomes a strikingly alien environment. The mountains come alive with the sounds of unknown creatures and the scene dims to set of vague, dark shapes, rendering my hearing acute and my sight keen. It is in those times where I find myself a simple human, detached from commonplace worries and instead imbued with a certain terror and fascination with the land around me.
I'll admit it, these are odd hobbies, but those are the nights that inspire the deepest of my appreciation for a life on this planet. Being human is what matters to me.
My deepest gratitude.
I'm a little iffy on the topic too, so any feedback would be awesome.
Anyways:
When the car rounded the corner I sprinted through the cold air like a gazelle after its lunch, feeling nothing but the warmth of pure exhilaration. In the instance I was the runner in a game of Fugitive, and to me, nothing mattered more than the adrenaline pushing my body to reach the next hiding spot. I felt alert, simple, and motivated. I felt human. This is what matters to me.
In the midst of academic immersion I find myself, like many others, forgetting what it means to be human in the most fundamental of ways. I go to school, go to practice, go home, study more and practice more; my brain habituates. To break that habit I tease fear and venture out into the dark, allowing my basic senses to take over. As with Fugitive, a game of chase in the nakedness of night, I find myself on familiar streets but as a different person, a simple human, void of ambient tedium. In is in those moments that I realize stress is no more than a folly and come to peace with the joys of running wild, both body and mind.
My three close friends who, by the way are all cerebral studs, also join me in another breathtaking night adventure. At least once a month, we dedicate ourselves to scale the trails of a nearby park, Rancho San Antonio. As cross-country runners, we are all accustomed to the paths as a result of hundreds of miles of sweat and dust. However, at midnight, Rancho becomes a strikingly alien environment. The mountains come alive with the sounds of unknown creatures and the scene dims to set of vague, dark shapes, rendering my hearing acute and my sight keen. It is in those times where I find myself a simple human, detached from commonplace worries and instead imbued with a certain terror and fascination with the land around me.
I'll admit it, these are odd hobbies, but those are the nights that inspire the deepest of my appreciation for a life on this planet. Being human is what matters to me.
My deepest gratitude.
