by Eddie Pipkin
Image by Peter Dargatz from Pixabay
I was out for a sunrise run on the beach last week, when I found myself approaching another runner coming in my direction. It was one of those moments when I realized that, if nothing changed, we were on an intersecting trajectory. This sort of thing happens all the time on my normal neighborhood runs. You’re cruising along on the sidewalk, oblivious, when suddenly someone approaches, walking their dog. You’re forced to make a split second decision about who will yield to whom. On the wide, sandy shore, however, it was a bit comical. The beach was probably fifty yards wide, but unless one of us (or both of us) shifted a few feet left or right, we would find ourselves crashing into one another. It’s a metaphor, people, for the way we constantly find ourselves on a collision course with others. It’s a tricky calculation, deciding who is going to defer to whom in a given scenario, what the timing will be, and exactly how wide to make the deto