Monday, 12 January 2015


Tiny snowflakes pirouetted in the street lamp light and landed on this cloud of snow we were running on. The stars had fallen down from the sky – now crow black – and lay on every surface around us, seemingly shining from within and lighting up the world with their conviction. Their enthusiasm rubbed off on me, and I danced forward, forward, into a darkness illuminated by magic.

-18°C. Four runners, our coach included. Empty streets, warm houses, silence loaded with laughter, that tried to push itself past my lips and break out into the world. 15 km of runner's high.

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