(blog)

Photo by me, from my favorite route. Morning, silence, and nothing extra.

Running in my life isn’t about competition, ambition, or even fitness in the classical sense. It’s about breathing. About me. And about the place where I feel alive.

I love running near my home. It’s convenient, sure, but it’s more than that. My route winds past green bushes, hills, and trees that change color with the seasons. There’s always a beautiful view — the calm sky, the sparkle of water after rain, or just the soft morning light that makes you stop and look around. Maybe that beauty is what makes running feel more like a release than an exertion.

When I run, all the extra noise fades away. Problems quiet down, and thoughts stop spinning. It’s my time to be alone with myself — but also to feel connected to the surrounding space. Running is my moving meditation. I don’t track my pace or set a timer. I just allow myself to be — and to move.

Of course, there’s a physical side to it. I notice how my body gets stronger, how I sleep better, how mornings feel lighter. Running is a small challenge to myself — but not to prove anything to anyone. It strengthens me, both physically and emotionally. Sometimes I go out for a run feeling low, with anxiety buzzing in my head — and come back completely different. Calmer. Grateful.

I don’t know if I can call it a habit, or if it’s become a need. But I do know that without running, the days feel heavier. Maybe it’s the rhythm. The feeling that my body is working, strong, alive. Or maybe it’s freedom. Because when you run, no one’s holding you back. You just move — how you want, where you want.

For me, running is a small space of strength and calm that’s always with me. And that’s what makes it so important.