15 September 2007

This hit me a few days ago, but it wasn’t until I talked with an old teacher of mine who talked to me about writing everything down for the next 30 years [why 30 years? I have no idea]

It was probably about two weeks ago, the first time I felt this. It was maybe the third time I was running through the park.

Things still kind of felt like a dream since we were doing all the touristy stuff, all the time every day. It wasn’t until I went running in the park that it all began to feel real. It made me think of when I went running at home. I was doing this here, half way across the world. There were other people running and walking and strolling with friends. It felt normal and safe and comfortable. I can’t even really describe perfectly enough what exactly it felt like, but I knew everything was good.

The sun was setting on this ideal September evening. The sun was warm against your skin and a slight breeze blew all my troubles away. The music playing through my earbuds was the perfect soundtrack to this moment. The park is full of people. Some are walking hand in hand down a path, others are laying on the ground talking in the world at that very moment. Some, like me, are running. There is a unshown connection between runners. We are all going through the same thing – silently respecting one another as we pass by. Nobody knows where I’m going or how many miles I’ve gone, or how many pounds I want to lose. It’s like being part of an invisible culture and for the first time since I’m here being accepted as part of something. There’s no formal welcoming, only the feeling that can’t ever be described, only felt within.

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