During my morning run, thoughts unravel. Songs arrive to match the pace.
I look up and around, to settle in nature. Air circulates with breeze or scents of someone's breakfast: eggs, coffee, cinnamon rolls. The chill of morning air raises hair on my arms.
The sea coast brings another turn in the road and my tune changes. If a sadness or situation of concern populate my path, I wander through them in search of a different view.
Staying in the moment arrives from evaluating my body's mood. How do my toes feel as they hit the pavement. I check on knees, ankles, neck, shoulders for details.
My hearing increases.
A shift in breathing occurs as the pace increases. Rhythm changes and a flow sets in that clears the mind.
Ideas pop into focus and creativity soars.
The run ends only after reaching this state in the movement's flow where I want to run forever. That conditioning sets an eagerness to return.
I never stop in discomfort. Just one more step . . . .