As Monday morning announces its arrival by way of headache and stiff joints, and as the caffeine slowly snakes its way into my system ready to reclaim its crown as my favorite neurotoxin, I serenely cast my mind back to yesterday’s Sunday morning run. Driving down to the Tama River, in a torrential downpour, trying to reassure myself that I was indeed of sound mind to be running in such inclement weather, I made the conscious decision (if such a thing can be done at 5:30am on a Sunday morning) to run towards the mountains. Avoiding the temptation to head down river towards the bright lights and hub of activity that is Haneda airport, I spun my cheap and decidedly smelly Adidas around and headed for the lesser known Fuchu and Kunitachi areas. As I progressed a couple of kilometers into my run, where I would normally be met by dog walkers and overzealous baseball parents ostentatiously urging their young children to slide, dive, hit and run more in the hope of becoming the next Ichiro, I was instead met with nothing.Silent, serene, beautiful nothing. Belinda Carlisle Heaven Is A Place On Earth nothing. In a world where my social media provided dopamine fix is almost as addictive as my caffeine hit, having 90 minutes completely alone, running in the pouring rain, was as close I’ve come recently to the finding the refresh button on the messy and poorly webpage that is my life. Can’t wait for the next one.
Japan Boy Running 