Metaphor

It is hard for me to run alone.

My natural pace is too fast.

When I am by myself, I quickly run out of breath and sharp pain shoots through my shins.

I like to run with Larry.

He knows this about me - this tendency to get ahead of myself.

So he starts first.

And I fall in step behind him.

Sometimes, I will run right beside him, matching my step to his.

Heel. Heel. Keeping his rhythm.

Sometimes, I fall behind him.

Following in his steps.

When I run with Larry, I always go farther than I think I can.

When my lungs start to burn or my shins start throbbing, but Larry keeps running, so do I.

As long as he is running, I run.

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This... is the great metaphor.