I was running in my favorite spot to run. It isn't all the time that I get to run there anymore. I like running in a place out of the way. Like I own the place. And I can be alone with my thoughts.
I was running, I was just going to do 3 miles, but the air in my lungs just felt so good. It's cold, but I am warm, and a nice breeze is cutting through my clothes.
A car stopped next to me and I realized it was a friend I haven't seen in a long time.
She says "I saw someone running and I knew I had to know them." Because we did put a lot of miles on that road. I miss it.
A while ago I read an article in the runners magazine. The author was describing his idea of what a runner is, like, I don't have the fancy running outfits or the pace to be a real runner. But what makes a runner? Is it really fancy clothes or the fastest pace? No. It's the enjoyment we get. He says it's the little pile of dirty clothes that makes you a runner. He went on to say that all runners have an understanding.
Maybe we do know all runners?
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