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Clear and cold contrasted against a brilliant sunrise, I put on enough running wear to allow for a chilly start, before setting into a comfortable body temperature for a eight mile run.
The trail was busy with, couples, singles, bikes, dogs on leashes, all taking advantage of the morning and physically interacting with their world. My eyes were panning, as I turned my head backwards, trying to find the one man who generally came out onto the trail behind me, his athleticism would have him pass in my first couple miles.
There were couple months left in my 6 month training schedule for the IMT 1/2 marathon and I had noticed him right off as I began to train. We at irst exchanged head nods when he passed, a few inches shorter than I, his 5′ 10″ish, lean frame and body projected a nice silhouette running ahead.
His running gear generally fit tightly, on warmer days wearing the old school short running shorts, that billowed just a touch at the end showing Büyükesat Escort off the dark hair on his legs. I hadn’t thought like this in a long time, admiring his physique wondering what his skin on my hands felt like.
I was waiting for him to pass, often I used him to pace me, trying to keep him in sight as long as I could, using that time as a faster interval for my run. I wasn’t a classic runner, picked it up in my late 20s hoping to stave off father time and beer belly as long as I could. I was resolute that today I would stay with him long enough to see where he turned off the trail, pushing myself to keep him in sight until that time.
I looked back and he appeared, the brilliance of the the sun now hovering above the horizon of he lake in which the trail circled and shot off into the city. He was directly behind two bikers as they passed me and I noticed a smile on his face when I turned andsaw Elvankent Escort him in that instant.
His pace took him past me, his skinny running tights showing off his musculature, tight arse and they were layered with a light, long sleeved top. His beard was trimmed down, I imaged from the previous day, and he wore a matching hat to keep his head cold. I sped up gradually, resolute to keep pace today, to find something more about him.
My mind drifted to a place I was visiting more often these days, replaying a college moment in my dorm, lights out, roommate’s shorts dropped, swapping out Jamis Justice with my runner, his hips bouncing as he ran, in my mind pushing forward, my mouth wide and throat straining to take the length erect.
The trail had wound around the lake and had turned back into the sun, it shining hot through my shades, my concentration on keeping pace and imagining taking Beşevler Escort him combined for catastrophe.
The pain was sharp, my ankle turning on uneven ground, the result instantaneously poured me onto the blacktop.
I next was looking up, on my back, into his face, a phone to his ear his gaze down the path, waiting then seeing me looking at him. I must have blacked out for a moment after slow motion crashing on my knee, elbow, shoulder and then head.
“Umm, why don’t you wait on that emergency vehicle, I’ll do a quick assessment and call back if necessary. Yeah, Josh Striker,” he said, the name itself nearly reviving me on the spot.
“Hello,” he said. “How are you feeling? Josh.” He extended a hand to shake, I could smell his musk and presence as I met his hand with mine.
“Hi, um, embarrassed at my clumsiness Josh,” I said. “Donnie by the way, and oh I can feel my ankle swelling.”
He did a general assessment verbally and then looked at my ankle. Looking up at me sitting, his hands working both feet to check symmetry, his shoulders were broader than I had imagined. He then helped me to my feet, my weight on the good left foot, and had me try to walk.
“Uggggh!” I exclaimed putting to much weight on the right.
“Let me help you back to your car,” Josh said.
I smiled.
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