When we were in high school together, she could say “just one more drink” or “one more piece of fudge” and I couldn’t think of why to disagree. Yesterday, she was saying, “one more mile.”
Over our adult years, she had become a marathon runner for fun while I was taking to the world of words. Yesterday, while visiting Mile High Country, I went with her as she trained for the Pittsburgh Marathon four weeks away. My thoughts were that she would run and I would ride her mountain bike. Her thoughts were that I could ride up ahead, turn around, come back to her and then ride ahead again. (Do the math: 26 miles x 3).
My thoughts were that I’d stop and smell high altitude roses.