I run in dreams. Good and bad. One of my favourite dreams start with me running, and it crescendos towards a feeling of effortlessness. The ease of my stride becomes complete, rarely and barely do I have to touch the ground to continue propelling myself forward. The few times that I do have to make ground contact it is as if my forefoot merely licks the ground and I experience something akin to almost-flight.

It is not as if I'm weightless as much as having an unbelievably elastic Achilles tendon that allows me to bound ahead, completely and utterly free. With nothing to impede me.

In nightmares, if I have to run, I'm not as swift.