Workout Buddy

I see him almost every time I ride my loops around the park, walking briskly against the flow of traffic: a jewish man, early to mid-thirties, though it's hard to tell exactly through his ginger beard. 

He wears a yarmulke, a medium-weight, plain black and brown sweater, slightly shiny black slacks, and wholly inappropriate, clunky black dress shoes, and he walks with a slight sway in his hips. He's a little overweight, maybe a lot, to judge by the belly pouching out his sweater, but he's got this grim determination in his eyes as he power walks around and around, like he's on a mission.

I'm happy to see him every time, and when my legs start to burn, I think about him and his mission, and I keep trying.