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By jamesaguiar - Posted on 10 February 2010

 I've watched him for years, twenty at least. He was my age now, then
He ran like a beast, Or a dying steam engine
With coarse harsh breath He seemed near death, But miles after I had stopped running,
I could hear him still puffing.
I would marvel that that ancient could manage such a course. Increasingly he developed a limp-
A hip replacement post gimp Made him a walker from that point on.
Still limping, daily he carries on,
rain or sun, cool or warm.
"Where you been?" he asks.  ..."Busy," I said.