Cho is white in the face now, still runs the miles faster than anything living around here – foxes, deer, bobcats included. The only thing that saves them is their cunning. Cho is out for the run. The wind in his ears, his legs flying high front and back, his eye to the sky.
He’s cold and it’s hunting season so he looks good in his outfits. And he doesn’t disappear in the fields, I can see his ecstatic leaping run for miles.
He is happy to wait, looking demure and contained waiting for the gate to be opened. He’s happy to set the standard.
What I love most is the casualness with which he approaches his passion. Like an arrow, he is poised for flight, easy in his effort, his cue, his completeness. There is no athlete more ready, more agile, more lucidly focused. Without breath or motion wasted, his movement is a masterpiece of efficiency and his grin is the best ever.