It’s amazing how going on a run without headphones can change your perspective.
I jogged past two fellow runners this afternoon, and they were both plugged in. Normally I am, too, but due to a paranoia concerning data charges and the likelihood my iPhone would get wet in the drizzle, I opted out today. It was the perfect day for running–no sun, a light, damp breeze that kept me from dehydrating too fast. And I could hear everything around me.
Upbeat music is usually necessary for me, but today I was too busy being overwhelmed by, well. The world around me. Honking horns. Cars whizzing by. The smell of flowers that had a citrus-y aroma to them, the scent of grass after rain. The trees shook rain droplets from their leaves onto my shoulders, and I felt each one individually. I could hear the slap of my shoes on pavement, the sound of a man’s hearty laughter through the screen door of a house on Jastram; in a way it was odd to hear as I have lived in a house of only women for a very long time. I heard the pitter-patter of the sprinklers on lawns, I memorized the dips and crooked tiles on the sidewalks I blazed. Being hyper-aware of your surroundings doesn’t take much–all it really does take is the opening up of one of your senses you usually keep locked up in earbuds or behind sunglasses. In doing so, you might find the world around you is a lot more interesting than your dulled senses painted it to be.