The pain is slowly passing.

The pain is slowly passing. Sometimes it comes back, and sometimes it’s totally gone. Time goes slowly during the day and it gets even worse during the night. Every night I dream about running. I’m running in the summer and winter, in the rain and in the sunshine. In my dream I run uphill easily, and when I reach the top and see the view I wake up. Moving my leg carefully I remember how bad the twisting movements are. I get up, draw the curtains, and see my shoes resting on the terrace. I go out to check them, I can even feel the forest when touching the mud on their sole. Thousands of memories come to my mind: paths, running buddies, races. I try to remember when the pain stopped. I can’t recall. I go back in the house, take my t-shirt, shorts and socks out of the drawer. Slowly, really slowly, I put them on. I’m playing with them, fidgeting, enjoying the moment. I put on my shoes, oh, God, what a feeling. After whistling for the dogs I start running. I run carefully, and pay attention to every movement. I can feel a little fear. I’m afraid of feeling the sudden pain again and having to start everything from the beginning. Then the forest enchants me, flow is everywhere around me, I’m weightless. My dogs are showing me the right path. I’m running uphill easily. When I reach the top, I see the view, I’m awake, and yes, the pain is gone.