I went out for a run this morning. I had a lot on my mind and it was making me feel quite overwhelmed.
Then I remember, as I always do, when running, one step at a time. One day at a time. One thing at a time.
I calmed down a bit with the regularity of my footstride. The rain had not yet come; it was perfect running conditions outside.
I passed a fellow running in the opposite direction. He looked a lot like Rafael Nadal, a doppelganger. I kept running.
Then I saw him again. Perhaps in recognition of me, he smiled and raised an eyebrow in greeting. Phwoar!
My stride changed. I ran faster, lighter on my feet, my chest proud, elbows in.
I am thinking, now, that for the London Marathon, I need a handsome fella placed strategically at every mile to smile and wink at me; 26.2 fellas to be exact. Perhaps one at the finish line to carry me off and massage my tired feet. That way, my form will remain good and I will finish smiling.
An excellent idea if I do say so myself. I might go shoot off an email to the organisers of the London Marathon. Hey, they may go for it.