A woman, is running in a forest. The sun sifts through the trees. A rhythm of footfalls and breath. Her face glows, serene in its perspiration. A small locket bounces on her neck. A sound makes her turn, she sees a blur of another runner on a parallel path. They start to race, the woman looks across, making eye contact with herself at 14. She pushes herself harder. Neck in neck, she looks across to see herself at 9, tireless and long legged. The child grows younger, the running becomes playful. The girl runs off and with a glance, is gone. The woman finally breaks out of the trees into a clearing, as she does, she hears a child's giggle. She looks and sees herself at 2, running with a toddlers rubber-legged glee. The woman smiles with understanding. She hears her father's voice, 'Run' and sees herself as she first discovered the joy of motion. In the open now, the woman stops to catch her breath, as she does, she instinctively touches the locket. She paces, panting. Behind her the lavender sky of evening spreads over the distant trees. She glances back at the forest. She smiles.