The sky was clear save a few wispy clouds over the Bay.  I stepped out my door around 6:20pm with only my shirt, shoes, shorts, and the all-important timepiece.  Warmth fills the November air.  I realize the cool ocean breeze as I run down the road towards the marina—perfect conditions for an evening run.   I only need to endure five minutes on unforgiving pavement until I reach the Bay Trail.  Along the bike path is a sandy trail that allows some reprieve for my legs.  Lighting conditions at dusk play tricks on my mind.  Though I know my pace is only a moderate one while I try to work the kinks out, my mind believes my body moves at a faster clip.  What the mind thinks, the body believes.  So begins a smooth ride.  
 
I approach Cesar Chavez Park on a dirt path.  I look east to the Berkeley Hills.  The sky becomes, a deep, pure blue.  In the hills, white houses look like luminaries flickering as I blink sweat out of my eyes.  I take a direct route towards the water.  Straight on stands the iconic Golden Gate Bridge.   I think, “Damn, it doesn’t get any better than this.”  I notice one sailboat, its sail dividing the span of the bridge.  The sail stands tall and stoic against the wind.  The boat, much like a champion or competitor at times, is a loner.  The last one standing in its element, after all the rest have called it a day.
 
In the backdrop, the fiery hue of the sun as it sets dominates a panorama made for postcards.  The intense orange evoked thoughts about the fire that burns inside. I notice a small boat just past the breakwater with a crew of about eight, each pulling his or her oar back in unison.   I think of my teams, past and present, and the synergy that builds through years and years of hard training.  Next, I pass docks at the marina.  The water is calm, except for thousands of small ripples in the water.  A ripple for every mile I have run, as if each stride represents a penny tossed into a fountain with hopes, wishes, and dreams. 
 
Passing through a nature preserve on top of a landfill, I meet two raccoons.  No Once A Runner animal and human connection here though, the raccoons scatter into the bushes not wanting any part of me.  Back along the water it is dark now, with only the moon to light the path and nearby lights from the frontage road to blind me.  My cadence increases and my steps are lighter.  The darkness requires you react off the ground quickly so there is less of a chance to roll your ankle. 
 
I cannot help but gaze across the Bay once again to the see the city lit up like a close galaxy of stars.  No fog rolls in tonight, so the view if crystal clear.  My attention turns to the water.  The waves crash into the rocks relentlessly. The lights glisten off of the waves.  A gold shine all competitors hope to one day have around their neck. 
 
On my way back, I pass soccer fields filled with kids practicing under the lights.  Plenty of potential running talent, will any become a champion?  I wonder.