Lone runner
Being able to be a lone runner is also a happy thing in the world. Loneliness itself is not a matter of good or bad, high and low. The reason why there are many people who can't seek loneliness and "go along with the flow", and there are also many people who are afraid of loneliness and are trapped in "noisy numbness"? Maybe it's alone and not alone. A runner, seemingly enthusiastic, sprinting like a fly, where does he have the heart to be lonely? How could he be alone in the midst of the roar?
If ten years later I'm still racing on the track, I dare to call myself a runner, and if I've been jumping on the chaotic field for ten years, I don't dare call myself a lone runner!
Running is originally a one-person thing, but to catch up with the bustle of runners and the joy of the arena, it is really not to appreciate the true meaning of running.
I like to be alone in the streets in the early morning when no one is there. The faint morning light, the quiet road, the lonely figure, all of this seems cold and lonely, but the arrival of the morning light cannot be stopped, it is the hope of the morning runner, the sun of heaven and earth will run through the runner's whole body, which is why I like the morning run. As the sun shines, the world of light and dust is the dojo for bath runners. Even if the shadow is lonely, how can it resist the expectation of light.
When I was a beginner, last October I ran every day on the land of Shaanxi and Han, running all the way from Yulin to Ankang, without stopping, and every place was in the dark morning, facing unfamiliar streets, rivers, mountain roads, and running in the Land of Qin and Han with different depths of my feet. I gradually became accustomed to running alone, I learned to "explore" unfamiliar environments, I enjoyed running through thousands of roads that had never been walked, rivers that had not been crossed, mountains and mountains that I had not crossed, and the experience of that moment filled me with magic and reverence. Although the lonely figure runs on the vast land, although from time to time there are wild dogs and wild cats jumping by, but it does not twist my heart of full attention, I am immersed in this solitude, and I enjoy the desire brought by this loneliness, in the face of the strange environment I have a kind of "questioning": there is no pre-planned route of the bondage, the horse runs by the reins, then it is not the great "release" of life; even if it is lonely at this time, the lonely must be the body, but the enjoyment must be undisturbed heart!
The loneliness of the runner accumulates little by little in these thousands of mountains and rivers, like the clouds in the sky, the pieces of aggregation and superposition, it becomes a thick cloud, floating, you see it is beautiful, it looks at the earth you are lonely!
The loneliness of the clouds is also the loneliness of the runner.
When the clouds turn from shallow to deep, the lone runner is also stumbling on the slow marathon road, he is no longer complacent about a person's running, and he will not be anxious about the clouds, he has the hope for the rain, and the calmness of being drenched by the rain. This lonely "rain run" can only be enjoyed by runners who look through the clouds.
The reason is that when a runner is immersed in the rain, he has almost no peers around him, because a "crazy" running in the rain is not understood and abnormal, and great marathon runners are hammered out countless times in the rain or under the hot sun.
Of course, I yearn for another kind of loneliness of runners, most runners want to run a result, run a place, marathon runners especially in terms of time to win or lose, distance to talk about heroes. Such a runner, who has experienced thousands of times of loneliness and boring training, may have run alone through the barren mountains and mountains, crossed the empty highway in the middle of no one's night, he survived thousands of times of exploration, and finally was encouraged by the pride of seeing the mountains, and it was still warm as spring at the top of the cold at that high place.
This kind of warm loneliness is destined to be the fate of the runner and the watchful eye of the runner.