The inability to breath
After a long run,
Captures not only your lungs
But your brain and soul.

Time stops.
After such a tiring exercise
Running far away from life,
Sooner or later it catches up to you.

When that time comes,
You have to just stay there,
Trying to breathe slowly
Like a normal person would.
But since when has things been normal?

If they were normal would you need to run?

Perhaps, it’s that running from life is normal.
Warm sunshine and cold margaritas,
Release you.
Once the cold sharp blows start back up
And you’re at the limit of alcohol
You’re back in reality.
Eventually you have to deal with the hangover.

I’d rather be aching from running,
But still pushing forward.
Than stuck in the middle of the road
Gasping for air.

Could it possibly be, that I'm the only one feeling this?