Insecurities

Another cold morning in Portland, Washington for Mike's early run. She had a great pace set in spite of the coppery feel in her lungs. Her timer told her that, for the third week in a row, she had been improving; her inner voice, on the other hand, told her that she could never make it at that pace.

“Never quit, don't stop!” she grunted aloud to herself between breaths. With that Mike leaned leaned forward just a little to force herself to increase her pace some more. Mike even made her breathing more deliberate and in a specific cadence with her feet. “Never quit!” determination came charging up through her insides and up her spine. It tingled and felt great.

At the end of her five mile run her timer showed that she was almost 20 seconds ahead of where she was last week. Mike stood up tall, placed her hands on the back of her head and walked around until she had her breathing under control again. While it felt good to have made that kind of progress four weeks in a row, it was an empty feeling without anyone to share it with.

In the cold, foggy morning, with the sun just peeking over the horizon, that sense of being alone and the feelings of loneliness hung onto her every fiber like the exhaustion and sweat all over her. While one could be washed away the other could not and would hang onto Mike all day. It would be there in spite of whatever victory or accomplishment that she would have that day.

The hot water of the shower washed over her, the steam filled her lungs. Her muscles ached, her lungs felt as if they had been rubbed with sandpaper. “Yer getting better, Mike, baby.” He said it, but, again, the words rang hollow.

From the outside looking in, it would seem that Mike had the best of it all. Steady work, nice apartment, supportive friends and family; it just didn't seem right. He had left the military and didn't have to deal with any of that crap anymore.

He grabbed his keys and hat on the way to the door. Stopping, he looked back at his empty apartment. He thought about the way he usually woke up. Waking up at any time of the night was always something else. Ripped sheets, smashed lamp, standing in a fighting stance, crouching in a dark corner with a helicopter fading into the night somewhere. “Is this how it's going to be for the rest of my life?” Mike picked up the garbage bag with the broken lamp and headed out to buy another one. “Maybe I'll run into a friend or someone.”