I am not a runner-talker.
I lose my breath in conversations with my trail-breaking buddies.
It’s not that I can’t do it with normal runners.
It’s just that I never seem to be with what most consider “normal” runners.
Those I try to follow are minutes faster, miles farther and much more eloquent than I am.
They like to deviate from flat land miles to craggy cliff-top miles as easily as changing an order at a coffee shop.
“One 7,000-foot peak, please.”
“With a goat, please. No horns.”
So I have become a runner-listener.