For days I searched—
restless, scrolling
through endless pages
of running shoes.
Do I need them?
Of course not.
My current pair is just fine,
can still run hundreds of kilometres more.
Yet one glimmered at me,
whispering every reason why I need it.
Spellbound,
I dropped them into the cart,
nearly hit the checkout several times—
credit card in hand.
Where did this craving come from?
Why did I feel such a sudden urge
for something I don’t even need?
Perhaps it’s the end of summer blues,
new school year starts soon,
the quiet worry for my elderly mother,
or maybe it’s that emptiness
I often feel inside my soul.
Thankfully, these desires—
especially for material things—
come less often now,
and when they do,
they don’t hit nearly as hard
as they used to—
one of the few perks of aging.
And running helps.
This morning,
the craving vanished on the road.
Funny how running itself
cures the itch for new running shoes.
While out there running,
gratitude welled up,
as I reflected on my summer.
It’s been an amazing one,
filled with memories to cherish:
a four-week family trip to Korea—
my beloved motherland—
where I was embraced by family,
reconnected with old friends.
Back in Canada,
the summer continued to bloom.
Camping in the woods by the lakeside.
The sweet fragrance of the woods,
lazy afternoon nap in the hammock,
barbecue smoke mingling with laughter,
roasting marshmellows and cold beer,
shooting stars in the night sky,
and at day’s end,
lying beside my boys in the tent,
listening to their quiet breathing.
Man, what more could I ask?