Contreras Road, Oxford OH

                 

I went for a run this morning. I hurried up High Street to meet up with my friend in her neon blue shoes. We left before the Sun awoke from beneath his fluffy white sheets. Afraid that he might see us running through this sleeping college town, we left and headed towards the open country road. My feet were feeling more comfortable as we reached Contreras Road towards the edge of Indiana, with Andrew quietly whistling his smooth tunes in my ears. We continued along the wall of corn and soybeans, black cattle munching away their morning meal. The air was clear and the roads quiet except for the occasional old couples, which I supposed were hurrying to Sunday service. They tell you that when running longer distances, you should make a target ahead of you and run towards that sign or curve in the road until you reach that mental flag you placed and then you make another target and it keeps you running and running, even if your guts feel healed over like a floppy pancake. Today, I didn’t have to make those targets. Three miles in, at Scythian Empires, archers of an afterthought, I was taken aback by the flirting birds heading left and right above me. Together they made beautiful patterns that reminded me of the handful of black sesame my mom sometimes puts into the rice while it’s cooking. We turned around to head back; where I imagined the girls would begin to walk back to their dorms in last night’s dress, sometimes their feet bare or blistering in cute black heels. I had not realized the Sun had arisen into its place in the sky, ready for the day’s work. His jealous rays now softly wrapped around my face and the front of my shoulders. I couldn’t help but to think about a couple things; some things I needed to get done, dental things that stress me out, things for school and class, some things about people and friends I have left at home, and other things like when I could stop and take a rest. I am not the best distance runner; I wanted to stop fifteen times while he glared down at me--his fierce eyes could easily burn holes in my salty skin. But, we kept going. That’s the great thing about running with a friend, with a friend and her neon blue shoes. I could feel that it was a good start to the day, a good start to a new week, and to a good school year back in Oxford, Ohio.