The Trails are Waiting With Wonder

Silver maples in the auburn sun, pirouetting light on leaves, the sun slowing setting beyond the woods like a disco ball disappearing into a memory … I was five, six, seven… I was running like the wind, I was chasing killdeer down a long driveway lined by huge pines, my hair blowing in the breeze, my favourite…

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When The Slowest Comes First

“You take the lead Debra,” said Gil. “I can’t lead… I’m the slowest runner here! ” We were doing our warm-up walk and about to start our first running set, heading down the path along the Thames. “That’s why you need to lead us in our speed… we pace ourselves by the slowest in the…

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