The brown-headed barbet eyed me just at the 100m mark, where I stood, my hand on the timer, as the young boy readied for his sprint at the far end.
Go, I yelled, my voice echoing back.
It was good training for him this cold but clear morning. Repeat after repeat, something about today made me feel like he turned a corner. That he wanted to do it harder, faster.
When he finished, we ran an easy cool down round to end today’s session.
Writing about Running 