Inspired by a stranger

I used to drive to work the 'long way' avoiding a dual carriageway and managing to squeeze in a bit of peace between two sets of chaos. Llantwit Road, long and winding, trees lined both sides; turning the road into black lace as the sun shone. I listened to the same few albums, full volume, often repeating my favourite tracks, and holding on to the tiny part of self-absorption my day allowed. Sometimes I'd spy a colleague waiting at the bus stop en route, music down, daydream over, "jump in".  Talk about the weather and staff shortages all the way to work.

For four years this was my routine, and I saw the same people at the same stage of their work commute for most of that time. I like to be early, or at least on time for appointments and work, being late leaves me feeling ashamed and guilty all day (and that's no exaggeration). One lady would be walking along the road, embarking on her journey as I came to the end. It used to puzzle me, where was she going, there wasn't a house or bus stop for a couple of miles? This lady was what could be described as 'morbidly obese'. Headphones in, sweat pants and t-shirt on, with a jumper around her neck in Spring/Summer, rain mac in winter, she looked worn out but determined. 

As the years went by, I saw this lady every time I drove to work, and things began to change, slowly but dramatically. First, I noticed she had upped her pace, there was a spring in her step, arms like metronomes. Weeks later, I realised I was passing her in the middle of the road, not as she embarked on the journey.  Eventually, she jogged. Red-faced, pained, determined - she exuded will-power and focus as her breasts bobbed freely under a pastel t-shirt. I wondered what music was helping her along and imagined it being Tina Turner or Meatloaf. A shadow of her former self, she was getting close to the end of the road as I drove past.

The bus-stop colleague shared my interest in this lady's progress, she had anorexia and loved nothing more than to discuss exercise, food and weight loss. When I left the job, I wondered if she kept a keen eye on the jogger's progress. 
The road now forms part of a by-pass, which joins onto the 'short way' route. I would miss that drive if I still worked at the school, I would miss seeing the shrinking jogger,  I would not miss, however, having my journey interrupted by a colleague.

I recently took up running; I struggle along the main road gasping for breath as my asthmatic chest tightens. I think about that look of dogged determination, that shrinking woman and I keep going.