So I was running around this lake, my last real long run before I taper off to run a race event at the end of February. A few miles into the run, a Raven became my unlooked for companion. He would slowly fly ahead, land on a post or sign and sit there and wait for me to arrive. Once I got next to him, he would jump down and coast of the breeze, mocking me with the ease of his glide. I would pass him and he would circle above and behind me. Then he would come gliding in and land on the next object ahead of us on the side of the trail.
The Raven repeated this process over an over again for at least 16 miles. Then as I rounded a corner, I noted that my legs were feeling a little tired, the gels I had eaten were not sitting well with me and I was starting to feel a nauseous. I could nothing else but continue to run, albeit at a slower pace. The Raven waited this time and as I finally caught up to him he starting cawing and I realized with the frequent undulation of his cry – that he was laughing at me.
So with that the Raven left and joined his friends catching a draft high up into the sky. His finally call to me echoing across the hills that I was climbing through. The Raven cursed me. My run was miserable, I slowed down, got sick and slowly pounded my way through the remaining part of the run.