Run

Run. Those 3 little letters can mean different things to different people. I have a friend who takes those letters and conquers mountains and hundreds of miles with them.  I have another friend that laces up pretty pink kicks and hits the hard black pavement almost everyday. I have a neighbor who plays a rhythmic beat with an electronic road and yet never travels anywhere. Then there are my friends that love to paint those letters with the wildest of colors and have even bravely buried them in mud and laughter a few times. A very dear friend takes those letters and crushes strawberries with them and the fields lovingly cheer him on. And then there's this other kind of "run." I know someone that has mastered it and can beat anyone off the mark. She has toed-the-line all too often. And she usually gets to the finish line before anyone even realizes that the run has happened. There's this wild aerobic activity that happens in her brain and as a result her heart beats in circles. Her intuitive muscles twitch and whisper to her, "go... now... a few minutes ago... what are you waiting for?" Lately though, she resists. She's promised to and she intends to win a new race. A race that walks in trust, laced perfectly in the promise. Her head says "you're too late." Her heart bleeds happy. And for one of the first times in what feels like forever, she remains.