Before moving to Maine, the idea of running would have made me laugh, but when I literally ran away from my life, I was so worried and anxious that Dad suggested I try burning some of my frenetic energy away with exercise.

The first run was ridiculous, I lasted about half a mile and by the time I got home I was coated in sweat and breathing so hard I thought I might pass out. On my second run I realized that while I was concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other, my mind was blissfully silent.

Desperate for that quiet, I started running every day and now I do a few miles in the morning and sometimes in the evening as well if I’m struggling to turn off my thoughts. Some people say you can’t run away from your problems, but I disagree.

Hitting play on my cell phone, music starts to play through my earphones. I don’t run to heavy dance tracks or songs with a fast beat, instead I run to a soundtrack of calming rain forest sounds, thunderstorms and classical chill-out stuff. It doesn’t help me run any faster or farther, but instead it calms and soothes me.

After a mile or so, I find my groove, increasing my pace and lengthening my stride. This is the best part, when your muscles are loose, your mind is empty and you’re running for the sake of running. The road is lit with streetlights, and I stay out of the shadows, doing my best to be safe even though I’m stupidly running alone at nearly three in the morning.

Most of the houses are dark, except for a few where the lights are blazing and drunk kids are littered on the grass of the yards, music blaring through open doors and windows. Perhaps in another life I might have been one of those kids enjoying a party on my first night of college, but not now. The me I am now would rather run alone in the dark than be around all those people.

It’s another mile before I reach the main campus buildings and I run through the quad, across the lawns and out toward the main gates I entered through yesterday. There’re still people in the valet hut where I spoke to Angelo, and I wonder if the ridiculous college valet service is available twenty-four seven.

“Starling?” a voice calls out as I run past the hut, planning to head out onto the road.

Startled to hear my name being called, I slow to a stop and turn around, finding Angelo half hanging out of the hut. “Starling, is that you, girl?”

“Hey,” I pant.

“What the hell are you doing out on your own at this time of night?” he asks.

“Running.”

“It’s the middle of the night,” he laughs.

“I had like the world’s longest nap and woke up an hour ago. I couldn’t get back to sleep so I figured I’d get a run in while it was quiet and learn my way around the campus.”