Last night I tried to run my mile repeats in that horrible torrential onslaught of rain. I made it about 5.5 miles through when the bike path along the water was abandoned, and the lightning overhead was threatening enough to call it quits. Wasn’t happy about that internal debate, but I didn’t want to take the chance.
I was standing on a random Chelsea street corner in the deluge – wearing nothing more than minimal run gear – nowhere near home, thinking of how to carry on (Subway? Taxi? Keep running?).
Suddenly a guy crosses the street, smiles, gives me a high five and says, “Congratulations! You’ve made it!” Nothing more than that fleeting moment, as he kept walking.
All I could think was, “Man, you have no idea!” But, maybe he did. Stranger things have happened.
Perhaps, it was just one of those things. Maybe I took from that…
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