8. Dear Running Shoes

Dear Running Shoes,

I used to have dreams where I would run and run for hours.

Sometimes in my dreams I would lean back, and at a particular angle I could take my feet off the ground and yet keep on running.

Sometimes I would think to myself – on a nice day at an empty beach, or at a park walking the dog, or rambling along watching the shadows of the clouds on the grass, or in the rain – sometimes I would think that if I just started running I would never stop.

“Here comes the bus!” my friends would say. “Lets run!”

“I don’t run,” I’d say, and it became my catchcry.

“I don’t run,” and I would walk briskly for the bus.

I walked across Wales. I walked the length of the Thames. One day I will walk the Pyrenees. But I don’t run.

Pyrenees[2]

And still I had those dreams and still I thought to myself if I could just start running I would never stop.

But everyone knew – Me doesnt run.

I don’t remember exactly how it happened but one day I did it; I went for a run.

I ran for two minutes and then I stopped and walked. And then I ran again. And walked some more.

I bought shorts and a t-shirt and a sports bra and strong hair elastics.

And then I bought you, Running Shoes. My very first ever.

When I start running I can’t run forever.

But now that I’ve started I know that I will run forever.

Your first and only owners,

Me

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Nat Newman

Nat Newman is an award-winning writer of short stories, content, podcasts, feature articles, drunk text messages and, soon, a novella.

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