Two slow AF runners slumped and died while doing Slow AF Running…see more
In the quiet town of Willow Creek, where the air was thick with the scent of pine and the sun set behind the hills in a blaze of oranges and pinks, the running club was known for one thing: its unwavering commitment to slow, deliberate running. The club’s motto, “Embrace the Pace,” captured the spirit of its members, who often joked about their slow, shuffling strides. Among them were two particularly dedicated runners, Bill and Susan, both in their late fifties and proud to be part of the Slow AF Running Club.
Every Saturday morning, a motley crew of slow runners gathered at the local park. The atmosphere was light-hearted, filled with laughter and camaraderie. Bill, a retired teacher with a penchant for dad jokes, and Susan, an avid gardener with a knack for storytelling, had become fast friends, sharing countless miles and even more memories. Their friendship was one of gentle competition and shared victories, like completing the annual local 5K in times that would make most people cringe.
On that fateful Saturday, the air was crisp, signaling the onset of autumn. The leaves were just starting to turn, casting a kaleidoscope of colors across the park. Bill and Susan showed up, ready to tackle their usual route, a leisurely 3-mile loop that wound around the pond and through the trees. They knew the course like the back of their hands, each step a familiar rhythm in their weekly routine.
“Ready to embrace the pace?” Bill asked with a grin, adjusting his bright blue headband.
“Always,” Susan replied, stretching her arms overhead, her laughter ringing like a bell.
They set off, their feet barely making a sound against the gravel path. Their conversations floated through the crisp morning air, peppered with tales of their families, gardening tips, and shared frustrations about their ever-slowing paces.
However, as they approached the first mile marker, a sudden unease settled in. The sun, which had started its ascent, now seemed to hang low in the sky, casting long shadows. Bill paused, wiping the sweat from his brow, and looked at Susan. “You feel that?” he asked, a hint of concern in his voice.
“Feel what?” Susan replied, her breathing steady.
“Just… something feels off today. Maybe we should take it easy.”
They agreed to slow down even more, chuckling about their “snail’s pace” as they resumed. They pushed through, discussing everything from the upcoming holiday plans to their dreams of running a marathon one day—though at their current speed, that seemed a distant fantasy.
As they approached the two-mile mark, the atmosphere shifted. A strange heaviness enveloped them, like an unseen weight pressing down. Bill suddenly staggered, clutching his chest. “Susan… I don’t feel so good,” he gasped.
Panic washed over her. “Bill! What’s wrong?”
He tried to reassure her, but his breath was shallow, and his face paled. Susan rushed to his side, her heart racing. She fumbled for her phone to call for help, her hands trembling. Just as she dialed, she felt a wave of dizziness wash over her, and her vision blurred.
“Susan, no!” Bill gasped, but it was too late. She crumpled beside him, both of them gasping for air, the world around them fading into a haze.
In that quiet park, where laughter usually echoed, silence descended as time seemed to freeze. The vibrant colors of autumn blurred into a muted palette as the two friends, who had spent countless mornings embracing their slow pace, now lay still.
As the minutes ticked by, the rest of the running club began their loop, blissfully unaware of the tragedy unfolding just ahead. When they finally stumbled upon the scene, shock and disbelief rippled through the group.
Emergency services arrived swiftly, but it was too late. Bill and Susan, the beloved heart and soul of the Slow AF Running Club, had succumbed to a combination of exhaustion and an undiagnosed heart condition that neither of them had seen coming.
In the days that followed, the community mourned the loss of two gentle spirits who had embraced life at their own pace. The running club met in their honor, sharing stories that filled the air with both laughter and tears. They vowed to keep running, slower than ever, carrying with them the memory of their friends who had taught them that it was never about speed but the journey they shared together.
In the end, the Slow AF Runners were a testament to the beauty of friendship, laughter, and the unbreakable bonds formed on quiet paths, even in the face of life’s unexpected turns.
