The sprinter1

Around 4:30 in the morning I was completing my run. It was not twenty-seven miles like some of my disciples; it was only two miles.

As I was completing my two miles near the famous bus stop on 150th Street, a middle-aged white American said to me, “Man, you are a sprinter — not good for long distance!”

I thanked him and smiled at him, and he also smiled at me. See, his intuition was working so nicely!


RB 1. 12 August 1978