It is hard to be angry when you are in a gorgeous place with great company. Everything seems to make sense, and things don’t seem too bad either. Somehow you get a feeling that, shit, this life isn’t too bad at all. They say you can’t run away from your problems, and the new location is not a solution. I could partially disagree with that statement for sure. I ran away from my “normal” day-to-day life, and now I am here, in North West Florida, enjoying the sunshine, the beach, and the perfect climate. My problems did not go away, but the way I think about them changed. They don’t stress me out anymore. They are not as important as I thought they were. They all will get some fucking solution at some point, and I will forget about them as soon as possible. A new setting makes you feel different, and the better your surroundings are, the more appealing it is for you and the better your entire experience becomes. Presently, I am in the best place on Earth, and I love it. It doesn’t mean that nothing else matters, but instead that I have so much pleasure in my life right now that all that stressful bullshit has no place in my heart anymore. Life goes on. Life is beautiful, and we always have to remember that no matter how fucked up it might get.

It is a beautiful sunny morning in Sarasota, Florida. At seven-thirty in the morning, the sun goes up, and you can feel its nice and warm presence. I woke up early even though I was on my brief vacation. I wanted to see and experience more of this place and its beauty. I want to be full of this new life experience that will not last forever, but I want to make sure its impact will. I go into my car around seven in the morning and drive off to the beach. Siesta Key beach is about seventeen minutes away from Palmer Ranch, where I rent. The traffic is very light in the morning, and driving through Midnight Pass Road feels liberating when just a few cars are driving on it. As I drive closer to the beach, I see people walking or running. I see people on bicycles and walking their dogs.

You can easily spot somebody who’s a professional runner. These experienced runners are always very much tanned, and they always wear a running uniform, black sunglasses, and sweat dripping all over them. They run consistently, with a very measured tempo and pace. They have earbuds in their ears and a phone strapped to one of their arms, and they breathe deeply and systematically. You cannot miss the professional runners out here. I am not an experienced runner myself, but I do that for fun and to trigger some new experiences in my life and train my body. It is also a great mental escape from everything. Whatever the situation is, I feel satisfied and happy, and that’s all I need.

There are very few cars in the beach parking lot, and you can easily park in the first raw parking space in the morning. People who park there usually are either early risers who want to enjoy the beach in peace or runners like myself who want to be healthier and fit and satisfy their physical needs by running a few miles in the morning by the ocean. I park my car, get my earbuds in and play some upbeat rock music. It has to be something energetic, something to give me a boost since I am still half asleep in my mind. I stretch my legs right there next to my car. I am always barefoot when I run on the beach. I love to feel the white, powder-like sand under my feet. It is the best feeling ever. It brings me closer to this environment and makes me feel more present. Also, I hate to get sand into my sneakers, which ruins them. And since I don’t like to go out and buy a new pair of sneakers often, in general, I am annoyed by shopping, I run barefoot, and I am happy like that.

Walking to the beach, I can see the light-blue sky on the horizon, with a slight pink reflection from the rising sun. The pale-white, super smooth sand is cold under my bare feet. This type of sand is always cold, but it feels even colder in the mornings. I don’t mind the sand. My mind is set on the sky and the contrast between white sand, light blue sky, and light-blue and green-ish ocean. There are no words to describe this beauty. This picture-perfect scenery takes away my mind and soul. I take some pictures on my phone, I want to always have this memory somewhere in my digital cloud, so I can always go back to it, share it with others, show them how great this place is, and make them a little jealous. I walk the morning-cold sand towards the ocean.

I see some people scattered around the beach this early in the morning. Everyone has a reason to be there. Some are getting ready for another beautiful sunny day, and they decided to set up their beach spot early. Some people are just walking at the shoreline, breathing the fresh ocean air, some are running, and some are on their bicycles. There are fishermen, cigar-smoking men, coffee drinkers, old, young, kids, and others. I don’t start running until I am on the shoreline, next to the water. I deeply inhale the fresh morning ocean air. It looks pretty light and easy on my lungs. I almost don’t feel any pressure inside. I feel easy and relaxed. I want to live. Once I reach the water, I start running.

There is something about running on the beach that is an entirely different kind of running and completely different physical training than, let’s say, running at the gym, or on the street, or running in nasty-cold Pennsylvania neighborhoods. I hardly feel tired from running, and I get to breathe the freshest, smoothest air. The green-blue water comes and goes and comes again, hitting the shore lightly and returning to where it came from. There is a light, easy breeze in the air, and it makes me breathe in fully. My music plays in my earbuds, but I can still hear the ocean, the wind, and the birds. It all adds up to this magical yet so natural scenery. I watch my way, and I run left and right, trying to bypass others on the beach. People constantly walk back and forth. There are always people on the beach, no matter the day and the weather. Some walk in small groups, some walk with strollers, and some are alone but not lonely out here. This is like an early-morning-beach club or something where everyone who decided to come out this time of the day belongs here and is happy to be part of this early-riser community. So am I, and I am not local, but I feel like I am. I feel like I belong here.

My run continues, and I watch people, I try not to look at their faces, but sometimes I do. I want to see who else is out here this morning. I want to see beautiful young girls running on the beach. I usually see very few or none of those. They all seem to be getting their beauty sleep. Elderly and middle-aged folks are the majority of walkers and runners. This whole town is predominantly elderly folks. Those folks made it in this life. Those folks have nothing else to do but enjoy their lives and this beautiful weather that holds most of the year. I don’t mind the elderly. I don’t mind anybody at all. I feel light jealousy towards them since they’ve accomplished something in this life and deserve to enjoy their retirement. I am still very early on this life journey. I still have to go through at least thirty-some more years of working until I can peacefully retire. But I love to get a chance and an early experience of what this life can be like. I want to get an early glimpse of what this life can feel like once there is nothing to worry about but go out for a walk or a run on the beach in the mornings or evenings. This place is the place. This town is the town. I love everything about it. I’ll take it with all the idiots, tourists, lizards, alligators, and turtles over anything in North-Eastern Pennsylvania. Sarasota is the only place where I genuinely feel like I belong here. I should be here. I am happy here at once. Nothing else matters here anymore as long as I have this sun, this warm ocean air, this beach, this white sand under my feet and all. Man needs so little to be truly happy. Somehow, we all take the long road towards our happiness and towards finding what it is that we want to live for.

The music in my ears plays loud, the ocean’s hum is still audible, and I run. I get this immense energy from the ocean. My run feels easy and relaxed. I almost feel no pressure running, and there is no struggle at all. I watched the ocean move back and forth. I ran into the water for a little while to get my bare feet wet, to feel this energy. It works. Getting my bare feet wet refreshes my body and mind, and I want to run faster. I want to run longer. I prefer this run never to end. I continue to move along the shoreline.

Under my feet, on my way, I see the white sand with all those footprints on it. I see all those muscles and the seaweed flushed over onto the shore. I watch the sky and the sun rising on my left as I run towards it, and I feel the wind brushing through my body and soul. To my left are all those buildings along the shoreline, hotels, rentals, private housing, and everything under the sun that keep people coming here and staying there. Some customers are so eager to get there early that they come down as early as seven in the morning. Most of them probably are here for the first time. Many visitors are here on their vacations, spending some time with family and children or even by themselves. I see young mothers carrying their children to the beach in the morning. I see the fathers following them with a little cart with everything they might need at the beach while here. Some people are lightly packed with just one bag and a thermos. There is always a thermos with some mysterious liquid that people would bring with them to the beach. I’m sure there are plenty with alcohol in it. Locals know they can drink freely here, and they don’t even try to hide it. The tourists will be shyer about it and still hide their beer and wine in those thermoses or plastic bottles. It all works. It’s funny how people behave at the beach.

People come here with their reasons and schedules. They sit lazily on those chairs or lay on their towels, watching, doing nothing but relaxing. They are finding their peace and calm here at the beach. Most visitors don’t and will not get up early to run. They love just to lay there and watch others do their thing. It’s very much entertaining that way. I don’t mind them at all. I love to watch them as well while I am running. I love observing other people all the time. I love seeing what they do, how they look like, who they are watching, what they are doing in general, and how they are spending their morning time. A great song came up, and I turned my volume louder on my phone. I have my car key in my back pocket zipped, and I hold my phone in my hand as I run. I control my music, my sound, and my channels. I want to hear only what I want to hear at the moment. I don’t want to suffer through another lazy, dull song. I want all the best tunes playing in my ears this morning. I want to have this music associated with this ocean, beach, palms, sun, tourists watching me running by them, and all those birds making so much noise. I run until the shoreline ends, or almost until it ends, and there is no way to go any further, then I turn around and run back.

My view is slightly different now on my way back, as I can see more of the water on my left and the shore which bends this way. I always want to capture these moments somewhere in my memory to bring them back to life when I’ve been out of here. I might seem like a local to most of these folks on the beach, but I am just like one of them. I am just another tourist here. It doesn’t matter. What matters most is how I feel, at my all-time best. This sunshine does something to me, I am sure of it. I feel like all my anxiety and depression, stress, and all that daily bullshit do not affect me anymore. I don’t even give a shit about my emails or work-related matters or anything. I just live. I just run. I am free as those birds in the sky. I am just enjoying every minute here in the lovely Sarasota. There is sure a reason why I’ve been coming back here year after year for over a decade.

Fifteen minutes into my adventure, I can feel the sweat coming onto my face. I wipe with my hand and continue to run. The light ocean breeze blows through me and makes it all feel alright. I feel fresh. I feel so alive. I can see the yellow beach guard’s booth, my starting point, and my finish line. With every minute, I get closer and closer to it. I don’t have a time or a distance goal for this run. I am doing it for fun. I am doing it from this point to that and back. That’s it. It’s simple. It’s almost too simple to call it an exercise. I enjoy it like I am enjoying my cold white wine with a nice dinner later in the day. I am already planning my next run tomorrow and the next day, and for the remaining of the week. I wish I could spend my entire life like that. I wish I could come to the beach every morning until my last day, run or walk, enjoy this beauty, breathe this air, and feel this sand under my bare feet. I am only here for a month. At least I can count on that. At least it is something. Something worth living for.

I slow down and get closer to the beach as I approach the finish line. My feet are warm and hot from running the fresh, not even cold, and ocean water refreshes me again. I stop, and I walk more into the water to get deeper, down to my knee level. I watch the blue-greenish water moving, the ocean breathing, the birds flying around making noise, and the boats far into the water doing something out there. It’s a perfect view. It’s the view that I want to enjoy all my life. This view takes away my breath and my mind. I stay there knee-deep in the water and watch it all. The horizon is clear, and I can see far, but I can’t see the end of the ocean. This ocean has no end. It doesn’t need to end anywhere. I stay there like that, motionless and thoughtful. I feel like I have to think about something important like the sense of life and the purpose and my goals and my career and family life, but nothing like that comes to my mind. I just want to be present and not distracted from this beauty by nothing else. My mind is blank, already up from my night’s sleep but still wondering, still processing in the quiet mode. I check my watch, It’s about eight-thirty. I look sideways. I look straight ahead into the ocean. There are more people now on the beach with every minute. I know I have to get back to my place. I know my child will wake up about any minute now, and I want to see my son’s beautiful sleepy face, hug him, kiss him, and start his breakfast for him. I turn around, and I walk back across the massive wide valley of sand towards the parking lot, towards my car. I am not looking back. I am just walking away. I know what’s behind me. I don’t need another sad reminder that I am leaving this place and might not ever come back. I know I will come back here at some point in time. I will be here again tomorrow morning, running again, enjoying it all. For now, I need to be with my family. I want to see them, hug them, kiss them, and have my morning coffee with them. They are all I have and all I love in this world. I am so fortunate that we are here together, living and enjoying this fantastic place, and we are happy here, like nowhere else. Life can be beautiful if you let it.