A simple kind of life

It didn't start very well. I suppose I should get used to it; if I want to go running on tarmac during rush hour then I should be prepared for the sound of traffic drowning out the music I'm trying to listen to. It really doesn't help chanting ”shut up, shut up, SHUT UP” under my breath, nor does it help flipping the bird at the idiotic drivers that don't stop at pedestrian crossings. But it does make me wonder sometimes. I cannot possibly be the only one in the world who thinks that this lifestyle, sitting in a car in an endless queue on the way to work, alone while buses drive back and forth empty, is making us sick as a society? This constant stress that takes over our lives to such a degree that we can't sacrifice two seconds of our precious time to let a pedestrian cross the road? It is the law, after all...

But as soon as I left the traffic and city behind, my mood improved. The slush turned to a thin layer of snow, birds perched on tree branches and I could listen to my music undisturbed. The sun was slowly climbing up in the sky, but it was nowhere to be seen. Everything was grey, but a colour that is so ugly in an urban environment is so beautiful in nature. In nature it's not just a boring, uniform grey; it's all shades between grey and blue. 

Someone had been running where I now was, leaving their traces on the snow. That person wasn't the only living thing leaving traces. I saw hare tracks, dog tracks, and what I suspect was deer tracks. And a lot of horse dung. I was, of course, running near the stables. The horses were nowhere to be seen though.

I concluded my Wednesday long run with a visit to the bakery. On my way home I walked past a school. A little boy stood behind the building crying, all alone. The shouts of the other children in the school yard made it impossible for the teachers to hear this boy. I hurried over to him, as he cradled his right hand in his left and sobbed hysterically. He had slipped on a patch of ice and his hand was bleeding, but the cut didn't seem too deep. He was just scared. I tried to calm him down and walked with him to the front of the school to find a teacher.

The fact that I was there to help this little boy when no one else was around, along with two wonderful hours of easy, effortless running, completely turned my mood around. I almost regret my rude gesture towards the inconsiderate driver earlier. Almost.