The stranger who helps me run ❤️ Every morning I run around the lake. I’d love to tell you I glide. I don’t. Somewhere near the two-kilometre mark my legs start drafting their resignation letter, and walking begins to look like a perfectly reasonable life choice. That’s where he sits. A man in meditation by the water, so still the morning seems to settle around him. As I get close he opens his eyes and gives me the most beautiful smile. Then he bows his head and brings his palms together at his heart. Namaste. I smile back. Every single time. We have never spoken. I don’t know his name or his story, and I doubt he realises the red-faced woman puffing past him is having a small existential crisis about whether her legs will carry her another kilometre. Here’s what I’ve noticed, though. My fastest kilometre comes right after I pass him. Most mornings I shave around thirty seconds off my pace. Thirty seconds! I’m starting to suspect that somewhere in his meditation he has picked up a side hustle as my personal running coach. My watch doesn’t believe in miracles, but it keeps recording one. Marianne Williamson says a miracle is a shift in perception from fear to love. I think that’s what happens at the two-kilometre mark. I arrive there with a tired little voice telling me I can’t. A stranger looks at me with love, and something in me remembers that I can. Some mornings I want to stop. I want to sit beside him for a moment, ask how his morning is going and tell him his smile has become a landmark in my day. Sometimes I even want to hug him. Of course I don’t. A smile and a bow are their own complete conversation, and part of the beauty of this little friendship is letting it be exactly that. I do wonder if he knows how far his kindness travels. He has no idea about my hard days, or that some mornings simply getting out the door is its own victory. He just smiles, and somehow that’s enough. I think grace often arrives like this, quietly, through the ordinary kindness of someone who owes us nothing. Namaste holds that whole idea in one gesture: the light in me honours the light in you. It’s a reminder that there’s something worth honouring in every person we pass. Tomorrow I’ll run around the lake again. At two kilometres I’ll start bargaining with my legs, and then I’ll see him sitting in the morning light. He’ll smile and bow his head. I’ll smile back and keep running. So this is my thank you, to the friend I’ve never met. Your stillness carries me further than my legs do. May we never underestimate the kindness we offer in passing. We may never know how far it carries someone. ❤️ Namaste. 🤍kr