Hitting my face with a particular but comforting sting, the chilly night greets me calmly as I quickly walked down the steps of my new home. Bearing the coldness in mind, I swiftly zipped up my Nike sports jacket, making sure my hood was covering my ears. I didnÃÂ¡ÃÂ¯t want to get a cold. An ajoshi (Korean middle aged man), closing his store threw me a look of insanity as I pushed down the street towards the Korean university. I didnÃÂ¡ÃÂ¯tÃÂ¡ÃÂ¯ mind. A momentary thought of craze came over me, in leaving the warmth and comfort of my room. But I tugged at my spirit. Slowly exhaling a warm gust of breath into the cold night, my legs kicked off into a balance of perfect movements as I started my run through Yonsei University trail.
Running. It seems like IÃÂ¡ÃÂ¯m always running. Running into life. Running away from it. Running from my problems.
Running to grab the opportunites that always seem to barely slip by. Running into icy nights, the lukewarm summers, the cool dead earth, through the revival of spring. The bitter coldness always seems to sting at my face. The ghastly humidity always forces me to end my run early. Sometimes it is too beautiful to run sprint during the autumn time.
In the end, I run for freedom-freedom from my daily worries, the submissive worksheets of biology and pre-calculus lying on my desk, the hollering of friends, or the anxiety caused by screaming and yelling from the coach during volleyball games. I keep on running. So many times I have beaten the path for quietness, serenity, and my own time with my own thoughts, a piece of the universe where I can live my fantasy. I run from the stares of people won donÃÂ¡ÃÂ¯t understand me. My...