Every strike is a rotation across the foot and a quick repulsion from the ground.
Such an action sends the body gracefully and consistently forward.
Every fifth step the right heel ever so slightly brushes the left calf.
The feeling of the hips rotating every second, like a well oiled machine.
The abs clench and smoothly sway from side to side.
The low muscles in the back spike with strength and support.
The feeling of fingertips gently caressing the inner palm.
The warm skin found where the forearm meets the bicep.
Every breeze makes beads of sweat cool the surface.
The back of the throat dry from the sweet air rhythmically fueling muscles.
The eyelids are slow to blink with a peaceful feeling of both monotony and accomplishment.
When the eyes register, the precious trail ahead is engulfed with journey.
Through the strands of blond hair the glory of the yellow glow is visible.
The sun sets infinitely away, yet the reach of the rays is unfathomably far.
Running is the most simple of actions; an absolute gift.
It is certainly a euphoric feeling; the best the body can fathom.