Breathe, just breathe, I remind myself. My lungs are screaming, "Air, air! More air!" The wind struggles against me. Welcomed, cooling sweat runs down my face adn neck. The newly risen sun warms my flushed, tan skin. My muscles protest as I pick it up. I listen to the morning's music. My hert beating in my chest, my feet on the cement bike trail, the early birds' song, my heavey breathing, and the occasional car passing by creats the beautiful rhythm. This is my time, my early run.
The Morning's Rhythm
November 24, 2010