Runner at the corner

There are points in your life when something might make you stop and think, maybe even make you smile. Maybe something jostles loose a train of thoughts. One day, on a corner not long ago, I ran into a runner who made me think and smile.

I looked over at the intersection. He was tall and even through his baggy jeans and thin winter jacket I could detect a lean body. I guessed he was in his late twenties or early thirties. Dark eyes, a lean face and dark skin peered out from the space left between tuque and a scarf wrapped around his face. Something about him said runner.

It was my regular run home. It was a workout day, I’d finished a hard treadmill session at noon but had some energy left, some juice left in the legs for the scamper home. Now, I wasn’t setting any land speed records, but was probably with pack and all running pretty quickly.

The corner or intersection was a regular stop for me. Unless I arrived perfectly on time, I had to wait for cars to turn, see the white walk signal and boot it up a long solid hill. It was only a couple kilometres from home, so, if I felt fresh, I could always push it without worry of dragging my sorry self the rest of the way. I usually stood alone on that corner while watching cars roll past. I rarely met too many runners going the same way. I had stopped at the corner and not noticed the company of another until I looked over. This day, the tall stranger was dressed for a winter walk home. He was bundled up with a winter jacket, winter hiking-style boots and jeans. He looked over, for some reason I sensed a kinship and nodded.

I darted when the lights turned and headed through the intersection, foot on the sidewalk and started pumping up the hill. My legs felt good and I pushed off lightly with each foot. I tried to stay smooth. Maybe I was impressing the tall walker behind me. The hill was about 300 metres long. I stayed strong and eased off a bit as I hit the top and ran across the next intersection at the top of the hill just as the light was turning. For some reason I glanced back.

Just as I hit the other side I caught a glimpse of my walking friend at the crest of the hill, at the intersection I’d just crossed. I stopped, stunned. I turned to face him and we exchanged a smile. I laughed and pointed in the direction I was running over the cars between us. He pointed in the opposite direction.

Something said this guy was a runner. He’d felt the challenge of camaraderie with another runner. I should have run after, or in his direction to find out his story. Boots and all, he’d chased me unheard up that hill, and smiled after. Was he a Kenyan? Was he just a guy having fun? Who knows? The runner on the corner. For me a story untold.

Run on friends – make your own stories out there on the road. See you on the roads or in the blogosphere.

Do you have a story to tell? runningwriter@hotmail.com

When not running into people out on the streets, I am training for the 2014 Ottawa marathon. Check out my blog and my personal blog for training updates, advice from experts and more. Follow me on Twitter as well @NoelPaine. – In March, have a chance as a new follower to win a New Balance running jacket.