 Sometimes I run alone, left to the rhythm of my feet and the ideas echoing in my head, the sound of the city around me, the sight of the grass and trees and sky, and see every step and invitation to be present to myself. Sometimes I run with a partner miles of verbal processing, inspiration and insight, someone to check my pace and push me when I don't want to go any further, a co-conspirator, an accomplice, a friend. Sometimes I run with thousands of strangers, corraled into a starting gate, buzzing with energy and anticipation, jolted into action as the race begins, slowly at first as we navigate our way through a narrow starting line, but quickly picking up speed as we spread out at our various paces, carried along by a momentum bigger than any one of us. Sometimes I run.