Crossing the finish line to the condescending cheers of the lingerers who had already eaten all the bagels, I took my complimentary medal, tore off my running shoes, and walked into the sea sobbing like a little bitch.
I can live landlocked for a while, but after a year or two away from the sea I end up feeling muffled, like I’m wearing extra layers around my psyche. I will never be as awake and alert and present as I am when I return to the source. My ancestors were born, lived, and died near the sea. I will always belong there.
by Holly Mohr I brood when I run. I almost said I like to brood when I run, but that’s not quite right. Honestly, yoga’s my real jam. (All right, let’s just lay it out there: reading is my actual sport of choice. Yoga is my favorite one that involves moving my body beyond turningContinue reading “The Brood: Brooding Fast, Brooding Slow”