This morning’s run was more quiet and still than usual. As I made my way slowly up Grove, I could hear the leaves rustling overhead and airplanes flying above and nothing else. There wasn’t a car nor a person on the streets.
It also smelled like fall. The air was chilly, crisp, and clear the way the first days of fall are. For the first time in months, the cold air hurt my lungs with every breath I took, and I was struggling to keep my legs moving, one ahead of the other.
I made my way up the slope of Geary though and rounded the corner to Laguna. The old lady who walks her dog in the early morning was there with her dog, as usual. We’ve seen each other before. But, this time, she said good morning to me and I was able to get those words out of my mouth too. She was the first person I’ve talked to all morning. I think she was also the first person who has ever greeted me as I slowly jogged along.
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