A corredora

Clara runs until her lungs burn just to quiet her own head. It made me think about how we use physical pain to mask the stuff inside that hurts worse.

“Correr era a única forma de silenciar o mundo.”

The track is the only place where she feels in control. Everything else in her life feels like it is slipping through her fingers.

Every stride she takes is a way of leaving her past behind. But the faster she goes, the more those memories seem to catch up.

Her relationship with her body is so complicated. It is a machine she pushes to the limit, but she forgets it needs to be loved too.