Looking Back
I felt like I was carrying a piano. As I ran down the dirt road that separates my property from my neighbor's, all I wanted was a shower, a cup of coffee and a stack of pancakes. For a sixty five-year-old man, I'm in pretty good shape, but staying there takes work. So every morning, I get out of bed and hit the roads. I run between three and six miles, as long as the weather isn't too bad. This morning, as most, I saw the beat-up pickup truck that was owned by my best friend and neighbor,...