The cold air wasn’t a nuisance. The pounding of his feet on the broken cement of the sidewalk echoed in his ears, sweat slowly beading on his forehead, then evaporating as the cool air rushed by. He could feel that odd equilibrium where his body’s internal heat met the air outside. That feeling of being warm and cool at the same time. He took a deeper brath, and turned his thoughts to something else, anything else but the pounding of his feet on the pavement, and the distance he had left to go. As long as he didn’t consider how much he had left, he felt he could run forever. He resisted the temptation to speed up, to give into the exilaration of a full run, that wild and heady rush as every muscle in your body gives itself up to complete and total exertion. Just keep the pace and think of something else. He shifted his mp3 player from one hand to the other, switching his keys to the hand holding the mp3 player to allow both hands a moment to cool off, the sweat from his palms quickly dissappearing. The trick you see, is to breath and distract yourself from the pounding of your shoes on the pavement.