The run. Making the commitment to get outside and go for another 5km personal best. Once the shoes go on, thereâs no turning back. I turn to my wife as I step outside and let her know that she should see me in half an hour and if not, to come looking.
Focused, starting to breathe deeply without having yet even taken my first stride, I do the final checks. Shoes - yes. Matching shorts and t-shirt - check. Ipod on and volume is reasonable - yep. I take a glance at my reflection in the window. Hair seems to be in place - good stuff. Then Iâm off.
At first it feels great. Iâve got a bounce that makes me feel like Iâm barely touching the ground. Practically running on my toes, I fly down my street, feeling the neighborsâ stares of what I suspect is admiration of my effortless gliding. Iâll impress them even more - Iâll push harder until Iâm out of site.
Around the first corner - the first bead of sweat begins forming on my forehead. The setting sun beats down and I notice the shadows of passing cars and assume that the drivers are also watching me as I blaze down the hill at top speed and they must also want to join me because I make it look so easy.
Iâve been running 15 minutes now. Starting to really feel it in my shins and ankles. Man… I shouldnât have been bouncing and running on my toes so much at first. Should have kept it a little slower - paced myself a bit.
The sweatâs really dripping now. Have to wipe my brow with my t-shirt. Iâm slowing down and the only thing left ahead of me is to go all the way back and all the way up the hill from where I came.
20 minutes pass. Really feeling it. Everything in my perifery is blurred. At this point, Iâm strictly focusing on getting to the next point in front of me - that next tree, that next stop sign, that next intersection.
In the distance, I see what looks to be someone coming my way - coming towards me - looks like theyâre also running. Yes, yes… they are running. As he approaches, I realize that heâs quite a bit older than me. Man heâs sweaty. I wonder if heâs just started or heâs nearing the end of his route like me. Regardless, we get closer.
We can see each otherâs faces clearly. I look into his eyes. He looks into mine. We know what each other is going through right now. We know that our pain and our goals are both the same. We both pull our chests up a bit as we each edge to the side of the sidewalk to let the other easily get by. As we pass, we take that last stare and then almost as if an instinctive right of passage, we do the nod.
In a swift motion - two synchronous head bobs to acknowledge the otherâs willingness to put them through the same torture. We nod as a salute - knowing that each of us is putting up the good fight and will be victorious in due time. Yes, we perform the runnerâs nod. And we pass and keep running.
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