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Found 2 results

  1. onthebusrunning

    The Base

    The floor felt good. I took a moment to just breathe. To feel each breath crash and recede like the tide upon the shore. To feel the warmth still in my muscles. To let my eyes go out of focus and wait for constellations to emerge from the stipple on our ceilings. To absorb the effort. To pause. You see, I’ve been at it for nine-and-a-half weeks now. I started slow, just a few easy miles every other day to get the feeling back. But once it started, the bus – as it were – hadn’t stopped. My coach piled on more miles each week, methodically and purposefully. He added in various hill rep
  2. onthebusrunning

    The Pit

    It’s Thursday night, somewhere around 9:00. I jerk awake when my Kindle thumps against my chest. The words on the screen have long since blurred together, and, in fact, the device has shut itself off. How long ago, I’m not sure…five minutes? Five days? My eyes are half open, my mouth wide open. I feel like I’ve just resurfaced from the depths of some dark sea. I roll over onto my side and try to blink the room into view. Ah, yes…the living room. I’m on the couch. And my bed… my bed is so, so far away. The dog lifts her head, and eyes me if to say, “Get it together, man.” I pitifully
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