“Are you going running tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow? Maybe.”
I didn’t run every day, but there were days when I needed to. It
wasn’t only about getting back in shape; it was also about getting back in
time.
As my wife turned off the bedroom light and kissed me goodnight, I
closed my eyes and smiled to myself, remembering how wonderful a day it had
been.
I had gone on my morning run—3 miles in the park, which was pretty
good for a 60-year-old man, especially after what had happened—and came back to
find breakfast laid out on the table for me. I hopped into the shower and then
joined her at the table, a cup of steaming hot coffee already placed at the
side of my plate.
Read the rest of the story at On the Run. Photo by Nourdine Diouane on Unsplash
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