Prologue: In March, I flew from DC, where-ish I live, to Cincinnati, my hometown. This is a 501 mile journey in the roundabout fashion needed to take a car around the mountains. But by plane, these miles shrink and the time in flight is a mere 56 minutes. I like window seats even when there is nothing to see. On this particular flight, I sat next to a kind man, who made this same journey, current city to hometown frequently. We spoke the entire flight and, interestingly, I could see the land below the entire time–the square green quilted earth, the mountains, and my city, beautiful Cincinnati. Because, as we discussed, the same journey–home to home–taken two different ways offers entirely different experiences. You see things differently. And so begins yesterday’s journey….
It had been a mostly good week. The training runs seemed to be going off in fairly good fashion. There was good news about an upcoming race. Things were on the up and up. But, then one and a half miles in, her legs slowed to bouncing walk. Why was she walking? She had miles left. Oh, no, she was going to do it–pass the school and back home. She was quitting. No! She crossed the street. The journey continued but she was walking. This didn’t count as a training run, did it?! Stop! Not everything is one way or the other. She needed to find some middle ground, and why not the ground she had planned to take…running or walking, she was on the journey.
Ideas floated. Snippets of the week danced through her head. Class. That man. Work. Coffee. New running clothes. Meetings. The nightmare that awaken her. And, then, she started to notice things. This same route she ran many times. Countless times over the last two years. Today she noticed things that walking offered and running never had… The yellow house didn’t face the road. Odd. The new vegetable garden. Her first cicada sighting of the year. All the houses have “bridge” driveways. All of them. Hmm. Her second cicada. The music blaring from the house. She stopped to hear the song. Birthday balloons. The store went out of business. Civil engineers sign. Teal shutters. A quiet house hugged by trees.
She didn’t notice these things when she ran. It was flying. You cannot see the details. But today she did.
Five miles of walking before running again. But before she ran. Her mind drifted again. Characters playing in her mind. Again. She cannot see them as easy when she ran but here on her jaunt, they played out in her mind.
Her mind drifted to later. Weeks ago, she dreaded Thursdays. She had a new class where she didn’t know anyone. Her hermit self providing armor. But then there was that man. The equally quiet man in his pressed monogrammed shirt and expensive watch. She wondered what he did. Why was he sitting there? Would he rather be at home with his family? He didn’t smile. Was he mad? Or, maybe he didn’t find comfort in smiling. She smiled and he was forced to partially push the corners of his mouth up but it didn’t look natural. He wasn’t a smiler. She was. He returned the silent salutation. And, this seemed to satisfy her. She giggled slightly. Thinking how she had mentally called him her Thursday best friend. Why? Who knows. She was quirky and weird. At least that’s what he thought. He looked at her in her old jeans and sweatshirt that blanketed her small frame. She needed to shop. Why did she always smile? What was wrong with her? In an earlier time, she was probably a cheerleader…no yearbook editor. Who knows. Who cares?! What was he doing? She had pleasant eyes. He thought she was probably older than she seemed. Oh, why?! Why was he even thinking this over? He looked over to see her scribbling notes.
Pure humor. Her thoughts never stopped. A constant flow of random nuggets of dissonance. And then the purest moments. These characters playing like a show in her mind. Her ex would ask her often what she was thinking about. What’s on your mind? Nothing. Liar.
Epilogue: And this is the randomness that makes up me. I’m always thinking about something. I forget what people say to me not because I lack consideration, but, rather, the thought didn’t wash into the thoughts already coursing through my mind. I’m a liar when I say I am not thinking about something. Real. Creative nonsense. I assumed that all people were like me until that ex. He really had moments of non-thought. He never created characters to soar through his thoughts helping sail through the day on happy threads.
I am really tough on myself for walking. Training for a race shouldn’t include walking, right?! But then again, it’s a whole new view.
ENJOY YOUR VIEW! HAPPY RUNNING!
runnin' rollin' runnin' 
Some times you just need to slow down and see the rest of the world. No harm in that. Just make up for it on your next run!