It's winter, 2014. I have resolved to start running. There's a very green park, next to where we live in Frankfurt. I observe a Japanese woman training. It occurs to me, now, that she could have been a world champion of some sort of running-related sport. But, that day of 2014, for some reason, I decide to take her as the average person on whom I will model my running. She runs so fast, so vigorously, that it's almost obscene. I do not know how to run, so I copy her. That is a manner of speaking – for, after a few minutes, I feel like I'm going to die. I'm exhausted, I can't breathe, my chest is burning. I cry...
Laugh Motel 