Kudos

She gave me kudos on my run. It's the most she's said to me in five months.

Strava. Of all places. A running app, a tiny orange thumbs-up, a notification at 6:42 AM that made me trip over a kerb.

Her name was Ella. She'd dragged me into running. "Just try it," she said. "You'll love it." I hated it for six weeks, then couldn't stop. We did a half marathon together in June. She cried at mile twelve, and I pretended it was sweat.

When we ended, I muted her. Not blocked. Never blocked. Just muted, like a coward.

So she doesn't know I still run her route. The long loop by the canal, past the red bridge, back through the park. I time it exactly like we used to. Same pace. Same playlist. Same stupid sunrise.

Today, I added a note to my run. Not on purpose. My thumb slipped on the screen. It said, "Felt strong today, thinking of someone."

I deleted it in three seconds. Not fast enough.

Orange thumbs-up. Ella Marsh gave kudos.

Then, a comment.

"Mile 4 is the hardest. You always slow down at the bridge."

My throat went tight.

I always did. Because that's where she'd turn around and say, "Come on, you've got this."

I typed back, "I know."

She replied, "Run it faster. I'm watching."

Five months, no word.

And she's been watching every run.