4.17.2011

to keep trying

The amateur runner has obligations to no one but herself, but still can't stop the flood of excuses to friends and fellow runners.  It's not a way to be better, depending on validation from others.  They have no stake in any outcomes.  All she has is on her own back, in her feet.

Running, he has no targets or deadlines.  To set time or distance goals might help some runners, the ones who need admiration, who run for others to see them, without hearts.  He is tired of competing and working and trying to fight for his worth all day; he is running because it is time to relax, to slow down and become a man again.

Wind bites her ears and then hands as she climbs another melted snowman to avoid a slushy fall.  She sees other runners get mad when sidewalkers block their path, but understands she is the one in the way, sidewalk speeding, and smiles at the pain of a rolled ankle just because a stranger stopped to make sure she was alright.

His real life still hangs around his shoulders, piling on guilt that he is not working on any one else's problems but his own.  Running does not eliminate the clients who demand his talent and thoughts and mind-full hours spent at his desk, nor does it earn him money to stow away for a rainy day as more clouds build up around his head.  The strength that it does build up in his legs and abs is merely a reflection of the mental power he gains by solving one problem--the distance between here and four more miles and home--entirely on his own.

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