• Julia Canigiani


My feet pounded the pavement. I counted each breath quickly- one, two, three. In and out. Eye of the Tiger blasted in my ears as I pulled one foot up behind the other. My breath was visible in the air, creating a cloud around my flushed face. I didn’t know how many miles had passed, or what time it was. All I saw was what was right in front of me, and I ran to it.

My collisionless space is completely filled with collisions. It is filled with blisters from breaking in new sneakers, or bruises from tripping on cracked asphalt. It is filled with my heart practically breaking through my ribs, yearning to be at one with my lungs.

With every stomp onto the pothole-filled ground, I stomp away that bad test grade in math, every death I ever mourned, or a goodbye that shattered my heart. I can feel the equations breaking under my feet, and the words of college essays pulverizing beneath me. Even my father’s hurtful words are crushed between fallen leaves. Whenever my life becomes too blurry to understand, I know a run is waiting for me. Even in the blazing heat, or cold snow, it never fails to be there.

Every single thing around me is constantly colliding. There is never peace and quiet, there is only crashing. But I have learned to channel death into rapid heartbeats, and the fighting into sweat. At least you can rub off sweat. I create a bubble around me every time I run, it is my shield. It is a space that only exists in my mind. I know that I can run away from the problems back at home, from the fighting and stress. I know that there is always somewhere for me to go, always somewhere to explore by myself with no one else around. There are always endless miles to run, endless miles to destroy what destroys me.


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