Three-Legged Race

The other night I met Tiffany at work so we could walk home together. We walked all the way home--stopping at red lights and crossing at green ones and through a grocery store where we bought lettuce and tofu--talking about our future: where we should end up and how best to get there.

"This little head of red leaf is $2.99, seems like a lot," I said, when I found her in the dairy department. "So, anyway, I see what you're saying, but what I'm saying is..."

"That's okay. Do you see the tofu?" she asked. I pointed it out next to the yogurt.

"I walked right by it," she said, picking one up. "I know, I hear you, but I just think..."

We stopped talking for a minute while we stood in line to pay, but, as soon as we exited the store, we continued. We talked round and round and round and didn't ever quite agree. We didn't disagree either. We were unresolved. By the time we got home, we were exhausted and a little bit irritated.

Conversations like this one remind me of three-legged races. I can remember running three-legged races with my best friend Beth Ann in elementary school. Sometimes we won because we matched each other's stride perfectly. And sometimes we lost because I jerked us out of whack or we started to giggle uncontrollably and tumbled to the grass in a heap of arms and legs. But I was never mad that I had tied my leg to Beth Ann's.

Being in a relationship can feel like running a three-legged race (the giggling comes and goes): both people have to agree to move a certain general direction and the speed at which you move is entirely dependent on one another. The band connecting you only stretches so far.

After Tiffany and I gave up on deciding our future for the night, we set about making our salad. She was dubious about my sauteed squash as a topping. I wasn't sure about her goat cheese. We threw them together anyway, and it was, we agreed, the best salad ever.

We might not win any races. Who knows what finish line we'll cross in the end. But still. I feel pretty good about what's holding us together.