The longer I continue to run, that is, the time since I started running until now, the more often I reflect on running, and what I was doing when and where I was running a particular route.

The more I digress, the more the present seems to fade. This paradox is manifest in my daily runs. For every time I hit the roads, I don't necessarily expect something spectacular. I do expect complete and utter contentment, in the pursuant completion of this little thing I love.

I only mention this, because I'm sure that years from now, I will remember a collection of runs in a new city, with new people, at a juncture that was unique in its own original being. And for this I'm grateful.