A la Haruki Murakami,
I just run. I run in a void. Or maybe I should put it the other way: I run in order to acquire a void. But as you might expect, an occasional thought will slip into this void. People’s minds can’t be a complete blank. Human beings’ emotions are not strong or consistent enough to sustain a vacuum. What I mean is, the kinds of thoughts and ideas that invade my emotions as I run remain subordinate to that void. Lacking content, they are just random thoughts that gather around that central void.
Thank God, if anything else, for giving me strong legs and a strong mind — at will, at least — so that I can run and run and run and run. I’m starting to fall in love with the pain.