Post by phoebe cate greene on Jul 1, 2012 4:32:13 GMT -6
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: dddddd; border: #cccccc solid 8px; width: 420px; padding: 15 5 15 5px;] I’ve got happiness that I can’t maintain, so beginner’s luck Tagged: open Words:709 Outfit:click Notes:N/A Phoebe's legs ached with each step, she could feel the burn, the pain. Her lungs were on fire, each breath bringing a new level of pain to her already begging body. But she loved the pain, was fueled by the pain. Every step reminded her of what she had to gain, the pain reminded her what she was working towards. She like to feel every ache, every creak, every pain her body could handle. She didn't like to run unless she would be sore the next day, unless she was really working, sweat dripping down her face and chest. Phoebe liked to run because it was painful, and the physical pain pushed her further, it was a physical manifestation of all her emotional and mental exhaustion and pain. When Phoebe ran it was her way of letting out her stress and frustration. She didn't like to drink or smoke or do any other drugs. She didn't have any other way to let off team in her life other than physically punishing her body. And Phoebe had plenty of stress in her life. Granted, it was self induced, and she loved it. Wouldn't have it any other way. But being a surgical intern, was hard work, long hours. There were never breaks. Even as she was running her thoughts were going over different stitches, different procedures, all the different things she had learned the past week. Things that she needed to master if she ever wanted to be a surgeon, which she so desperately did. And when she was thinking about what needed to be memorized, Phoebe was thinking of what she had done. Less than 24 hours ago she had been assisting on a surgery, in the operating room, and had been elbow deep in someone's chest cavity. No, it was a lot of work. Phoebe had never been so sleep deprived in her life, so on edge all the time. But she had lives in her hands, she had to be prepared. And she wouldn't have it any other way. There was no rush, no high like surgery. Nothing could replicate the feeling of saving someone's life, of holding someone's heart in your own freaking hands! That was all Phoebe wanted in life. To help people, save lives, and maybe get her own personal brand of high out of it all. She brushed some loose strands of hair out of her face, and skipped to the next song on her Ipod, the beat filling her head, increasing her speed. The sun was beating down on her pale shoulders, surely burning them slightly. Phoebe had always been so pale she was practically translucent, and wore sun screen every day of her life. But even living in Valkyrie all her life she had never gotten a "base tan." The California sun had never been her friend. Still, Phoebe liked running outside so much more than running on a treadmill or in a gym. She felt like a gerbil on a wheel when she ran on machines. Phoebe liked to feel the concrete under her shoes, the sun on her shoulders, and the wind in her face. She had several routes she usually ran, most downtown centering around the hospital, and her apartment. Today she was running down the main boulevard, it's wide streets, delightfully shaded, dotted with local boutiques, pubs and cafes. It really was Phoebe's favorite part of town, and the last quarter mile of her run. With deep breaths that burned, she pushed herself, practically sprinting the last leg of her five mile jog, panting heavily as she reached the end of the main stretch of the road, that dead ended into a small park. She stopped, pacing around, moving her arms around, stretching them out. She took the earbuds out of her ears, the music still ringing there a bit, the sounds of the street and nature echoing in a weird, overwhelmingly quiet kind of way. There was the laughter of children in the distance, and even father off, the sounds of traffic. Phoebe walked to the water fountain by the park entrance, leaning over it and taking greedy sips of the water, her body relieved, muscles starting to loosen up, breathing returning to a normal pace. |
