Notes
Down-pour. Found a muscled glamor boy at the end of my run. Tucked in behind (COVID appropriate). He looked back. Picked up the pace. I kept. He picked up the pace. I kept. I'm sure it pissed him off.
I kept behind him for a mile. But I was already at mile 9. And I didn't quite have the gas for more. Besides, I started staring at his butt. Like locked-in staring. Lost myself in that butt. No damn idea what was up. Mesmerizing. So, I pulled off at Belmont and left him to enjoy his speed. He deserved it.
But damn, it felt good to open it up.