Today

I am that woman. I am the woman you saw today on the side of the road. Or maybe I was crossing the overpass as you drove under it. I am the one who glanced over her shoulder as she crossed to the other side, avoiding the blind turn.

I am the woman with the pony tail that slapped the back of her neck. The one with the white hat, bill pulled low over her eyes. I am the woman with the foolishly-donned windbreaker, tied now around her waist. It was flapping and snapping above the Nikes kicking behind me as you passed by.

I am the woman you saw gritting her teeth, trying to maintain her pace up the hills that you crested. And I was the one taking in big gulps of cool fall air coming back down. I am the woman you veered unconsciously toward as you watched me run, then straightened away from as you realized your drift. (You always do that.)

I am the woman with the calm, determined and content look on her face running past you as you drive along on the road. And it doesn't matter if you haven't run in three years, or if you logged a run this morning. I am the woman you saw who made you think, "Man, I wish I was running."