The red headed runner ran in front of us.

Her braid tied back running fast.

A simple choice,

Turn the corner and run home

or

Run and catch up,

offer an invitation.

 

How do friends move into one’s life.

All brought about by a chance synchrony of time.

When it occurs,

a simple choice, reach out or move on.

Maybe we touch maybe we don’t

Thankfully this group of runners did not freak her out

So the running group gained a new member.

 

Mile after mile,

Conversation after conversation,

Talks so long, it took a few extra cool down blocks,

before they could end.

How many problems solved?

How many bad jokes told?

 

Short runs, long runs, hill runs,

Short runs turned to 5ks

5ks to 10 ks,

then half and whole marathons.

Many, many of those run together.

Those stories held back to only be told

after mile 10 on a long run.

Conversations aimed at distracting

a runner though miles 7, 8 and 9

of a first long run.

 

Through all those miles

the conversations and friendships ran strong.

Members came and members went.

A constantly churning conversation,

like a large choir with different voices,

rising and falling.

 

Weekend runs, and Monday coffee runs

Watching children grow.

Talking through every problem.

A family of runners,

A family of friends,

Each coming to join on a chance

Each open to that chance.

How like grace the ministers might say.

How like luck the atheist would answer.

 

The rest

The rest flowed like smooth muscles

moving over mile after mile.

Bodys growing thiner

Baby fat being lost and regained

As family’s grew.

 

Now with time,

People move.

 

But on each run

If the air is still,

or if I am running a familiar trail,

I still hear them running,

sometimes in back of me,

sometimes in front.

Sometimes I swear the pack is right around the corner.

I know the conversation is just getting good.

I know if I am quiet I might still hear them.

I know that when they run,

in all the places they have ended up,

They do the same.