It wasn't early morning anymore, but the air was still cool. The streets weren't very crowded. Aside from the occasional sound of passing cars, distant footsteps, and the faint howl of the wind, the atmosphere was quite calm.
Paul was running in the midst of this silence. His steps echoed rhythmically on the asphalt. His breathing was steady but deep. With every breath in, his chest expanded; with every breath out, his body felt a little heavier. His pace was neither too fast nor too slow—he was at a steady, sustainable tempo.
He ran for a while longer. Then, he slightly raised his left wrist and looked at his watch. His eyes stayed fixed on the screen for a few seconds.
"Good... I managed to last 30 minutes." There was both satisfaction and a hint of exhaustion in his voice.
But he didn't stop. He kept running. Slowly, he lowered his tempo. His steps became shorter and heavier. His breathing adjusted accordingly, becoming more controlled and calm. After a while, he came to a complete halt. His feet planted firmly on the ground. His chest was heaving rapidly.
He turned his head and looked back, tracing the path he had run with his eyes. He looked as if he were measuring the distance he had covered. This wasn't just a physical path; he was also seeing the difference between where he had started and where he was now. Then he turned forward again. He paused for a moment. And he started running again.
"Slow but steady." His steps found their rhythm once more. "I need to get back home at the same pace."
These words felt like a target. Paul continued his run. By now, his body was drenched in sweat. His shirt was sticking to his back. Beads of sweat trickled down from his forehead, passing his eyebrows and reaching the corners of his eyes. But he didn't stop.
Just then... a drop fell. Right on his head. Paul looked up slightly. He watched the clouds moving slowly. Another drop fell. Then another. The rain had started. At first, it was light, a fine drizzle. But within seconds, it intensified. The roads began to get wet, the color of the asphalt darkening. Paul's hair got soaked.
But he... didn't stop. He didn't even care about the rain. He kept running. His feet were now hitting the wet ground, making a light splashing sound with every step. His breathing had grown heavy, but there was determination in his eyes.
"Hang in there, Paul." This time, his voice was firmer. "You suffer today, you reap the rewards tomorrow."
With these words, he quickened his pace a little more. The rain was now completely pouring over him. But it was as if the rain made him even more focused. He kept running. Minutes passed. And finally... he arrived home.
He stood in front of the door, out of breath. Water was dripping from his hair. He opened the door and stepped inside.
"I'm back," he said, tired but clear.
The house was warm. After the chill outside, the warmth was felt instantly. Just then, a door opened. Grace came out of her room and looked at Paul. She paused for a second, then a slight expression formed on her face.
"Brother, I love you very much." She took a step closer. "But the smell of sweat is reaching all the way here." She furrowed her brows slightly. "Please, get in the shower immediately."
A small smile appeared on Paul's lips. "You'd better get used to the smell of sweat because you're going to be exposed to it a lot more." With that, he shrugged his shoulders slightly.
Grace immediately covered her nose with her hand. "I get it, but please, just get in the shower now!!!" Her tone was half-joking, half-serious.
Paul bowed his head slightly. "As you wish." He began walking toward the stairs. "I wouldn't want to upset my sister."
He took his steps and went upstairs. The corridor was silent, his footsteps echoing. But Paul didn't go to the bathroom. He turned toward his room instead. He stood in front of his door and thought for a moment.
"I should still do the sit-ups and other exercises before I cool down."
With this thought, he opened the door and entered his room. He closed the door behind him. The floor was clear. Without wasting any time, he lay down and started doing sit-ups. With every repetition, his abdominal muscles tightened. His breath went out as he rose and filled again as he went down. He wasn't counting, but every movement was being recorded in his mind.
Then he changed positions. He started doing push-ups. His arms were shaking, but he didn't stop. He went down slowly and rose powerfully. With every rep, his arms grew a bit heavier. But he... continued.
Then he stood up and started doing squats. Bending his knees, then straightening up again. His breathing quickened. His muscles were burning, but his eyes were determined.
"And 100." He completed the last movement. He took a deep breath.
Without wasting a moment, he left the room and finally headed for the bathroom. He turned on the shower. The moment the hot water touched his body, his muscles relaxed. The sweat and fatigue washed away with the water. After a while, he turned off the shower and returned to his room. His hair was still slightly damp. He sat slowly on his bed, the mattress sinking slightly under him.
Paul stared ahead, his gaze fixed on nothing. "I managed to endure it somehow." His voice was calm. "But my body is truly weak and frail." It was an admission. He put his hands to his face and squeezed. "I might be frail today." He took a deep breath. "But step by step, I will become strong." The sentence was resolute.
He stood up, went to his closet, and got dressed. He looked more put-together now. He left the room, went down the stairs, and walked toward the kitchen.
Now, it's time for food.
He entered the kitchen. His mother and Grace were at the table. They sat together and began to eat. Paul was eating fast. He was truly hungry, taking bite after bite in succession. His mother looked at him.
"Paul, eat slowly." There was a slight warning in her voice. "Are you in a hurry?"
Paul answered with his mouth full. "I'm so hungry, I can't stop myself."
Grace chimed in. "Mom, let him eat however he wants." A slight smile was on her face. "The important thing is that we're at the same table again, like we used to be."
With those words, the atmosphere softened. His mother smiled. "You're right..."
Paul looked up and glanced at Grace. "By the way." He paused briefly. "I'm thinking of buying a football." His eyes were on the table. "But I don't know where the nearest store is. Could you help me?"
There was a silence at the table. His mother and Grace froze for a moment. They looked at each other and then... they both started laughing at the same time. Paul watched them.
Did I say something funny without realizing it?
Grace slowly stopped laughing. "You can buy it online, brother..."
Paul's face went blank. Buying a football online???
Grace smiled again. "But let's go to a store." Her eyes shined. "We haven't been out together in a long time."
Paul paused for a short moment, then replied, "Ah, yes... let's do it however you want."
Grace suddenly raised her hand in the air. "Yay!!" Her joy was obvious. "I'm going to spend time with my brother."
Paul looked at his plate, focusing back on his food. "Technology has advanced so much..." He nodded slightly at the thought.
But deep down... he was experiencing the small but meaningful moments of a new life. And these moments... would be one of the strongest things carrying him forward.