Verb II

Running

My body is an orchestra: percussive feet pound out one two one two one two on the pavement. A less-than perfect 2/4.

Lungs create a sync o pated melody – shallow then lengthened then gasping then resilient. Accompaniment by vehicles’ whir birds chirp necklace jingle bicycle spins a fellow momentary pair of feet.

And together, my limbs, my lungs, my heart, my hips, we play this running symphony.

Run. A performance of one.

The first movement is led by the quick strides of eager legs, ready to run and full of expectation. The body is light, the breath is easy. A pleasant allegro.

Following is the slower second movement, an adagio of full breaths and settling feet. Conserving and sweet, the lungs play leisurely melodies to sustain the constant and slower hum of the feet. Long and mellifluous, the second movement holds the symphony together.

A burst of energy makes the scherzo. In a joyful triple meter, my legs dance along my running path. They join the hips and heart in a simple trio of physical exertion and mastery. The third movement is brief but shining.

Then, the finale. Returning briefly to the constant melodies of the adagio, the fourth movement starts slowly--preparing for the triumphant conclusion. A new theme is introduced and together, all the instruments of my body enter rondo form. Scaling new heights of range and tone, this symphony makes the final push toward the end. Celebratory and passionate. My lungs, the blasting brass. Every breath, the sustaining winds. My legs, the flying fingers of the string section. My feet, the percussion. All the parts come together and run. Run. Play. Run. The orchestra finds the final chord and holds, majestic in its harmonious conclusion.

My rhythmic running symphony.