Image courtesy of Pinterest

Image courtesy of Pinterest

He tied up his laces, opened the front door and skipped down the steps onto the gravel path.  A crisp cold afternoon with a beautiful blue sky.  He smiled into the sunshine and felt some of the heaviness of winter lift from him.  Looking further to the horizon he saw rain clouds.  Perfect, a light shower to cool him down on the way round.  It was going to be a good run today.

Warming up in front of the house , he breathed in the fresh clean air, his skin tingling in anticipation of the hard exercise to come.  Running was his thing.  Always had been.  It was the thing that kept him alive.  The thing that motivated him and pushed him forward through life.  He raised him arms over his head, took a deep breath and started a series of lunges, feeling the blood pumping to his muscles.

Checking his watch and adjusting his heart monitor, he bounced from one foot to the other, taking delight in the energy and power he felt in his body.  Today was going to be a good time.  He just knew it.  He couldn’t wait to get started.  Now, where was she?

She looked out of the window at him warming up, bobbing around the front garden, stretching and limbering up.  She couldn’t find her gloves.  Damn weather.  If it wasn’t pouring with rain it was freezing cold.  She eventually found them down the back of the radiator, screwed up and still damp from the previous day.  She shivered as she put them on questioning for the umpteenth time why she was even going on a run at all.

It was just not her thing.  Swimming, kayaking, cycling were no problem for her, but running…  She did it for exercise, not for fun.  It was just too hard and painful with old injuries resurfacing regularly.  She usually just dragged herself around the route, fighting with herself inside, cursing her body when it wouldn’t do what she wanted and generally willing it all to be over.

She sighed deeply as she tied her laces and zipped up her jacket.  Despite her complaints and her unwilling there was still something there.  Some slight pull.  What was that?  Maybe it was only the look in his eyes.  Something there that she saw whenever he ran, and something that she wanted to hold inside of herself.  Something precious, the look of feeling truly energised, truly alive.

She stepped out into the bright sunshine with a smile to match, bracing herself against the chill of winter.  Pulling the door shut behind her she took one last deep breath, thinking to herself that this time, maybe this time she would feel it.

This post is in response to the WordPress Weekly Writing Challenge:




elizabethmilligan · January 29, 2014 at 12:07 pm

Hey, thanks for stopping by and glad you like my story. I agree with you, running always feels good once it’s over but I am hoping to change that! I wish I had his enthusiasm too – maybe it will rub off on me 🙂

Philip Ogley · January 29, 2014 at 1:33 pm

That bloke knows what he’s talking about!

Bipasha · January 31, 2014 at 1:22 pm

That image says it all!

Weekly Writing Challenge: Leave Your Shoes at the Door | rahul ranjan's blog · January 29, 2014 at 2:55 am

[…] Leave your shoes at the door | elizabeth milligan […]

The Shoes of Francisco de Encinas (1520-1552) | Running Brook Reflections · January 29, 2014 at 5:02 am

[…] Leave your shoes at the door | elizabeth milligan […]

Weekly Writing Challenge – Leave Your Shoes At The Door | Joe's Musings · January 30, 2014 at 3:50 pm

[…] Leave your shoes at the door | elizabeth milligan […]

Laptop Fever [FLASH FICTION] | Ramisa the Authoress · February 3, 2014 at 6:42 am

[…] Leave your shoes at the door | elizabeth milligan […]

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

%d bloggers like this: