"Sorry, I need to be a tourist for a minute."

My friend steps off the bike path toward the water. I follow, and I'm glad he initiated this quick pause in our run because the sunset is spectacular. I mean, it's doing that golden shimmer thing on top of the lake where it pokes through the leaves and makes the trees look like they're glowing. And, at the same time, it's melting into an orange-red-purple elixir.

Fuck... this place is beautiful.

An hour ago, I got a call out of the blue with a "Hey, what are you doing right now?" I was in the middle of something and I think he could tell. But he pushed and, standing here looking out over the lake, I'm so glad he did.

After snapping a couple photos, we start jogging and jabbering again. This was overdue. Lately, our meetups have become downloads; each shares the big updates from their world and the other asks a series of follow up questions before, eventually, we switch. Neither of us love that. We'd prefer to stay caught up rather than having to catch each other up, but we share a lot of gratitude for having the type of relationship where we can do it quite effortlessly.

It was my turn.

"I don't know man, I kinda feel like I'm white water kayaking right now," I say. "It's sort of like the boat flipped, but we're still in the rapids." He hits me with a "hmmm," which is frankly impressive—we're running and he made it sound SO casual. I also know him well enough to know that him saying that is like a therapist saying "ahhh I see." Maybe it's just me, but my gut reaction to that is to explain more. If I give them enough context, they'll see my logic! Right?!

It's something I'm working on. Not over-explaining myself, I mean. But still, I say, "so all I can really do is keep my feet in front of me and try to kick away from any boulders I might get tossed into."

Our feet strike the pavement in unison. He's got longer legs than me so I'm actually curious as to how we managed to sync up like this.

"Waiting for calmer waters so you can regroup?" he asks.

We're on a curvy part of the path where you can't really see who's coming around the corner, so I glance back over my shoulder. Two bikers are about to overtake us and there's a couple women walking toward us, so I move to the edge of the pavement. My friend follows.

"It's more like I'm wondering if this should've been a hiking trip rather than a whitewater trip," I say.

He looks sideways at me.

I sigh and crack a smile (which I assume I've done quite casually for someone who's jogging).

"Sorry, this metaphor got really abstract."

"Sort of," he admits. "So are you gonna tell me what's really going on?"

The sun has fully set by now but the colors are still lingering on the lake. I don't know how or why they do that, but the swirls of violet are my favorite.

"Yep, sure will," I say.

And then I tell my friend about moving. We talk about the breakup, going back to school full-time, and the unexpected thrill of canceling LinkedIn premium. It all feels like it's coming out surprisingly succinctly. He asks follow up questions. Our jog-n-jabber continues and I feel lighter.

Damn this place really is beautiful.

I'm glad he called out of the blue.

We were overdue.

* * *

Are you?

onward.

For more on this daily column, read the backstory here. And if you know someone who'd appreciate this, pass it along.