Lines in the Sand

Either I vary my line, each lap, as it sweeps around the discus / shot put cage, or I was chasing someone last night on the Cross Town Loop. There is room enough here, for passing runners, whose wayward paths deflect from the competition track. To the left, to the right, maybe middle of the road, testing one then the other. One side firm, you know what to expect, the other wishy-washy, flip-flopping onto your side in the soft, leafy verge. There are rocks around the bend, unseen obstacles from this vantage, but it is a familiar ride and you lean left with confidence, over the bumps to the smooth path of turf.

Politics. Ride.