What Motivates Me

October 25, 2011
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The wind bursts through my hair like an exploding water balloons water. My propellers pound on the gravely ground, launching me forward. My arms tear through the air as fast as a head plummeting into a barrel bobbing for apples. My lungs expand and contract. They are just like your heart. I am a blur, a runner, that’s what I am; I fell, live, and breathe running. I smell the freshly mowed grass. A bug flies into my mouth, it tastes like gooey snot. My breath is so deafening, it is erupting in my ears, and sounds like an elephant shooting air out of its nose. I feel dead, I love it when that happens.

That feeling of when my legs are weights. My mind is gone. My lungs are shriveled up and cold. My heart is losing track of how to keep up with my legs. The whole body aches. My side cramps; they are death-defying. The groan of the body comes but I want to proceed farther. That smell of coughed up blood is in my nose. I can taste that grueling taste of puke. I’m a dead runner; and I love it. My shaky legs look like one of those sets of legs on foot vibrates that suckers pay for at amusement parks. The run is over, and I stop. Dead. I start to feel a sense of accomplishment.

I feel that feeling of greatness. I am on top of the world; I feel as though I just accomplished the greatest thing possible. My body feels so fantastic that it could just start up again, and I do. I live to run. The smell of a good barbeque is in the air, the trees and houses, a blur as I go by them. The fwut, fwut, of my feet powering off of the ground. The rocky ground, feeling like a massage on my feet. The salty taste of sweat drizzles into my mouth. I’m flying as if I wasn’t running, at all.

Motivation powers me to go the extra mile. It is what I am about. If I am not motivated, then I won’t run. If I don’t do anything that I enjoy than I won’t enjoy anything. Running is life, when I am motivated. It is what powers me to keep pushing, to work through the pain, to feel accomplished, and to have pleasure. Motivation…it is me…it is my form of power.





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