Post by Isaac Kazmiruk on Nov 1, 2011 21:13:41 GMT -5
The air on his sweaty brow was comforting. He was feeling pretty warm, despite the autumn conditions as he jogged down the street. Sometimes working out at the gym wasn’t enough to vent all his energy. Sometimes he just needed to feel like he was getting somewhere, like he was making progress, moving forward. When he felt like that, he went jogging.
Jogging was relaxing… for exercise. It was the most relaxing exercise he knew. He liked to go jogging at night, when the city streets were dead with silence, the streetlights casting an eerily clinical glow on the cold, hard concrete of the streets. His feet pounded the pavement as he rounded a corner.
He switched up the track on his iPod, changing to something with a heavy beat and lots of guitars. Jeez, he wasn’t sure he knew what half the stuff on it was any more. He’d filled it with so much music on impulse that he now hadn’t a clue what half of the stuff was but screw it; this was good jogging music. The heavy riffs forced him forwards, motivating him to keep going.
As he rounded a corner, he drew to a stop to rest for a couple of minutes. He looked every part the athlete despite, wearing only a vest, cycling shorts and sneakers, hardly being dressed for the season. Isaac, fortunately for him, was very adept at dealing with the cold and always had been; not through any experience or developed ability though. He just felt it a little less than most.
He wiped the back of his hand across his forehead, pushing back his fringe and clearing the sweat from his brow. He’d probably just finish the block before heading back to HQ for a shower and an early(ish) night. He walked over to a nearby bench and took a seat. His mouth was dry; he should have brought some water or an energy drink or something. Ah well, too late to worry about that now...
Jogging was relaxing… for exercise. It was the most relaxing exercise he knew. He liked to go jogging at night, when the city streets were dead with silence, the streetlights casting an eerily clinical glow on the cold, hard concrete of the streets. His feet pounded the pavement as he rounded a corner.
He switched up the track on his iPod, changing to something with a heavy beat and lots of guitars. Jeez, he wasn’t sure he knew what half the stuff on it was any more. He’d filled it with so much music on impulse that he now hadn’t a clue what half of the stuff was but screw it; this was good jogging music. The heavy riffs forced him forwards, motivating him to keep going.
As he rounded a corner, he drew to a stop to rest for a couple of minutes. He looked every part the athlete despite, wearing only a vest, cycling shorts and sneakers, hardly being dressed for the season. Isaac, fortunately for him, was very adept at dealing with the cold and always had been; not through any experience or developed ability though. He just felt it a little less than most.
He wiped the back of his hand across his forehead, pushing back his fringe and clearing the sweat from his brow. He’d probably just finish the block before heading back to HQ for a shower and an early(ish) night. He walked over to a nearby bench and took a seat. His mouth was dry; he should have brought some water or an energy drink or something. Ah well, too late to worry about that now...