I ran with Mr PS Lamba today at the track. I see him nearly every time I go to track. Sometimes, he joins in for a part of the intervals. Sometimes like today he accompanies me (or I him) on a time on feet run.
At least seven to ten years older than me, short silver hair, built like a soldier, he runs with purpose but effortlessly. From what I can tell he’s a serious man.
We’ve barely spoken a few words to each other in all this time. When we finished, we fist bumped and nodded at each other. That is all we needed to do.
Driving back, a beautiful orb called The Sun was rising. Between trees, concrete pillars, metro lines, wires, it showed up; a large orange disc looking simply magical.
Writing about Running 