It was the much-awaited spring break, a long-awaited oasis in the desert of schoolwork, and I was lying comfortably on my bed watching YouTube videos as a form of relaxation. Suddenly, my mom, a relentless compass guiding my life, walked into my room and reminded me that I needed to train for my upcoming running events during track and field. I tried to explain to her that it was spring break, a rare pause on life’s never ending treadmill, and I needed some rest. I had just come back from a long 5-hour drive from Lake Tahoe, a journey as draining as a marathon, and I was exhausted. However, my mom was persistent and insisted that I go outside and run.

I remembered my coach’s advice, it was echoing in my mind.I needed to keep exercising during spring break, but I was hesitant. I had a valid excuse, after all. I had spent hours skiing, and my legs were in shambles, like a castle after a siege. I thought to myself, “I think I can rest a bit.” But my mom wouldn’t stop asking me to run. I finally gave in and said, “Fine, I’ll go run for a while, I guess.”

So, I headed out the door and started jogging, feeling the wind breezing and wooshing past me, like invisible waves in an ocean of air. I enjoyed running because I didn’t have to run too fast or too slow. I could run on the streets or on a track. I had the freedom to chart my own course, unhindered by any constraints on my chosen path. I got to explore some places where other vehicles couldn’t go, like an explorer charting unknown territories. After a while, I came back home feeling tired but also really glad that I went for a run, a sense of accomplishment washing over me. Now, every once in a while, I go outside to run and enjoy the fresh air, nature’s own perfume, and the scenery, as if stepping into a living painting.