Image courtesy: Michl_007
I ran 10km barefoot.
I just went out and started to run. I did not look like a runner. Just some jean shorts, a T and a bucket hat. I don’t feel the need to fit into a group. I like the freedom to stop and walk and just fade into normal. No fancy T’s or watches that tell you you are breathing
My feet felt light and skimmed over the ground. The earth moved under me. Different surfaces, different sensations. Long dew filled grass, harsh gravel, smooth footpath, dry grass, hot road. Like a book of braille, reading the earth’s stories. Feeling its joy, feeling its pain.
Back home my feet are black from the journey. Dirty happy black feet
I feel connected with the ground underneath me.
I boil the kettle and throw some Earl Grey leaves into a pot. The steam rises and the leaves steep into a brew
I lean back into my chair and put my feet up. The contrast of the cup and saucer and my dirty bare feet amuses me.
The tea tastes good
