My Unicorn

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It’s nearly pitch black and I am walking up a hill. My watch tells me it is 1AM. If it weren’t for my headlamp I could not make out a thing. All I can see around me is dirt.

Gravel and dirt.

I can feel the subtle grit of dirt in my teeth. Dirt swirls through the air, illuminated by my the beam of my lamp. There is no wind, and this dirt tells me that people have been here recently. My headlamp will only reliably illuminate distances of about 50 feet, and the dirt goes on long past the confines of the beam. I sigh and press on in a futile effort to find signs of civilization.

I check my phone again. No signal. No calls. No social media. I become cognizant of the fact that I am completely cut off from the comforts we take for granted in technology.

I put my phone back in airplane mode and turn on music to calm my anxiety. This proves a fruitless effort as well. Cicadas surround me and their 90 decibel screech is all I can hear, their chorus droning endlessly in chaotic intervals.

To my right, a slope leads down to a mountain valley hundreds of feet below. I take small solace in knowing that leaping from it would provide a quick end to my woeful loneliness and queasy stomach.

Two tiny dots, no larger than the pin of a head, shine at me from the ground. They are the eyes of an insect or arachnid of some sort and I dare not stop to investigate which. In the corner of my headlamp I spot black slender line, less than an inch wide, resting upon the ground. I know it is either a stick or a copperhead snake, and I avoid it either way.

The uneasiness of my stomach doubles. I need sustenance and I will not survive for long in these dark confines.

Three words begin to echo through my mind without my conscious approval. These words get stronger and stronger with each repetition and this once fleeting thought is quickly becoming truth. I try and push away the thought but it has taken root. Sweat drips off my brow as my strength fades.  My last remnants of will and constitution escaping me, I scream this fateful phrase to the heavens:

“FUUUUUCCCCK THIIIISSSSSS SHIIIIIIIITTTTTT!”

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Running, Vanity, and Judgment

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Yesterday I was driving along a windy road in Little Rock that’s particularly known among runners for its long climbs. This road, Kavanaugh Boulevard, is one of the city’s loveliest streets, and it’s not uncommon to see runners out honing their craft. Yesterday was particularly warm and humid, and the few runners I saw looked very uncomfortable.

As I coasted down the meanders of Kavanaugh, a runner came into view. No quicker than I had negotiated that turn, he had slowed to a walk and put his hands on his head in ragged exasperation. He quickly realized my presence, and he and I made the briefest eye contact. He knew immediately.

I had caught him giving up on the hill. He had been judged.

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Best smell in the world. See if you can’t watch this and subconsciously smell it, too.

Just realized I have never posted a horrible selfie on Tumblr, which is an unforgivable offense. I am now one of the cool kids. For real though, I’m showing off the #BostonStrongLR shirts. Just picked them up an hour ago!

The honeysuckle in Arkansas has bloomed, heralding the start of spring! My friend Jen says it’s one of her most favorite things to smell while running, and I wholeheartedly agree. During tonight’s six miles I stopped at a patch to suck some of the sweet nectar from a couple flowers and felt like a kid again.

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