Who Or What Are You Running From?

Tall and slim with a strong French accent, always at the same spot smoking his cigarette every morning and this morning is no different. A cold Tuesday morning in a southwestern city in Belgium, getting up at 0600hrs and have formed the habit of going for a run. The morning air, which is fresh and pure, is beneficial for the lungs. 

Standing outside the side entrance of the building puffing on a cigarette, as I stood on the opposite side of the entrance trying to catch the entrance security light whilst I zip my jacket and pull up my neck gaiter. With his strong-spoken French accent, he asked. Who or what are you running from. You are always running he continued as he coughed and flicked the spent ashes from his cigarette. I mumbled words of obscenities to myself at him and asked myself DID HE REALLY ASKED ME THAT? At the same time looking up at him with a plastic smile underneath my gaiter, the joys of face covering. 

I replied, Nothing and No One. As curious as he was, I also wanted to find out why he wakes up early every morning to have a cigarette but I already knew, we are both addicted to something we enjoy doing. Filling my lungs with the cold morning air, my breath comes out in a fog, altering my vision, making it seem like a cloud of smoke whilst he inhaled smoke through his cigarette anxiously into his lungs and released a cloud of tension.

As I set off for my run, one foot in front of the other, looked back and waved at his direction, I suddenly realised I am actually running away from him. Going for my morning run the most important nutrient for the healthy body, giving myself a boost to battle the day’s hectic schedule. Words are insufficient to describe that feeling and no matter how dreadful my day was there is always that one thing, I started the day running.