I went running in the evening today. It was sunny when I left my home, but it became cloudy - the kind of weather where the rain’s unsure of coming down or staying there. And so I reached the crowded SeaFace for my run.
I began running. About 10 minutes in, I was fiddling with my earphones and changing the song when I bumped into someone and almost fell. He was an old man, using a walker for support and a caretaker with him. Shocked, I began to apologize profusely. But he didn’t seem to mind. Not one bit. He looked up and down, sizing me up, gazing at my shoes. He wasn’t angry. He was beaming at me. He seemed so happy that I was running and seemed to find some vicarious joy in it, while the caretaker glared at me. I apologized again, but he waved it off and stared at me as I plugged my earphones back and moved aside to resume my run. Again I looked at him, and he stared back, almost envying me.
As I continued to run, his face seemed to appear in front of me. I would do well to keep it in mind, next time I feel lazy about it. How many more runs have I got left in me?
(Picture from the run)