Without abandon, she flies.
One foot in front of the other, over and over, and over again.
The morning is damp and grey, and warm
Chattering birds create a cacophony of sound with the rustling trees
And the wind.

She is in her heaven.
The pain she feels is the bridge to her euphoria.
She is leaving the teenage world of superficiality,
And going beyond.

Her body is unstoppable,
Months of training have left her strong, lithe and resilient,
Her head is high, and her form is precise,
Passion is evident in her intensity

When the wind carries her scent,
It is one of raw and sweet purity,
Mingled with sweat and dedication.

She is outside herself
She has left her body and is seeing the truth for the first time
“I am a runner,” she says

The strong trees sway,
The world shivers,
And one girl has found her consecration.