I’m slogging away on the treadmill, sweat dripping down my forehead and into my eyes. I’m begging for a song to blare through my ear buds that will make me forget that I still have two miles to go before I can stop running. Then the girl on the treadmill in front of me, who had been running like a gazelle moments before, steps off the belt and just stands there, both feet planted while the belt keeps moving.
You know you don’t get credit for those miles that you’re not running, right?
Good thing grace doesn’t work that way.
Amen! Beautiful drabble, Nik!
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