It’s summer, the glorious Minnesota summer of silver lakes with brightly colored sailboats leaning into the wind, and cheery cardinals in my back yard, and fifty shades of green, growing as enthusiastically as possible before the all-too short season ends.
The other day I’m running. And sweating. A lot. And thinking I am going to die (as usual). But I’m also on pace to go farther than I ever have.
I am scuffling around the east side of Lake of the Isles when I see a middle-aged woman sitting on a park bench. She’s rubbing her eyes, looking like she might be crying.
Since I run at the pace of a turtle I have time to have a little conversation with God before I am too far gone.
God whisper: Maybe you should stop and ask if she’s ok.
