The sun had disappeared and was replaced by bruise-blue clouds and a spattering of stars by the time I crossed Wheatland Road and began running back to Keizer. I began the run from my front door, eight miles back, just as the rain clouds were beginning to move in and the sky was beginning to darken. I had run past acres of hops and nursery plants and deep brown dirt. I ran past few cars and no people.

I sprinted up the steep hill that connects the Windsor Island loop to Wheatland and crossed the road. Soon after, a bike rode up behind on the other side of the street. I could not see his face, but I could see a light on his bike and could hear the rain water as it splashed from his back tire. He wore jeans and a big blue jacket and I wondered why he was riding at night this far away from anything worth really riding to.

I found myself speeding up to stay alongside the man as we moved towards Keizer in what had become the pitch black of a winter night.

I yelled across the street to the man on the bike. “Hey. I’m going to try and keep up with you into Keizer. How far are you going?”

“I’m turning left just up here…but I could go further. Where are you going?”

“Can you take me up to Terrace Green?”

He rode for a moment and did not say anything, but eventually he yelled back, “Sure. Let’s go.”

We did not share another word. The man on the bike kept the same pace and I ran alongside him for two miles. He turned into Terrace Green and said, “good job, bud,” and then rode off and I yelled “thank you” and looked up at the moon and the looming clouds and caught my breath.

Movement gives way to opportunity and vision. Imagining leads to training and training leads to doing. And doing, being willing to go out there, can lead to seemingly insignificant interactions with others who are also in pursuit of movement. Train to do whatever you want, whenever you want. You never know who is out there too, waiting to help you pursue your goals.