Why Do You Run?

Running,
running,
my feet just a blur.
So fast I’m flying,
of this I am sure.
Faster,
faster,
sweat rolls down my face.
My muscles are pumping,
but this is no race.
This is no competition,
this passionate run.
There is nobody with me,
just the radiant sun.
My lungs, like great bellows,
are pumping my breaths.
There is no holding back here,
I’m giving my best.
Flying,
flying,
the world flashes by.
But why am I running?
Why should I try?
Am I running from something?
Is there fear in my stride?
Or maybe there’s pain
that I’m pushing aside.
Am I running toward something?
A goal far away?
Are my eyes on a dream
that I’ll conquer some day?
My feet strike the ground,
a melodious drumming,
though my breath comes in pants,
I start quietly humming.
Joyful,
joyful,
my movements are spry.
You ask why I run?
I need no reason why.
I’m not running from something,
nor toward any goal.
I run with abandon,
with joy in my soul.
I run just to run,
because I feel so alive.
Just to feel my heart pumping
is reason to strive.
The world melts away
as I powerfully dash.
I push even harder,
I am now just a flash.
Freedom,
freedom,
this is how it should be.
The chains I was holding are gone.
I am free.
I run for the joy,
just to feel myself flying.
Without this great freedom,
inside I’d be dying.
I run just to run,
and when I’m tired, depleted.
I’ll walk, and I’ll sing,
my joy undefeated.