We’ve all fallen in love while on the run and if you peruse through Craigslist’s Missed Connections page, you’ll come across a few running-related swooning. So we’ve come up with a couple missed connections on the run – a forum for runners and fans to share messages they wish they could have in person.

Eastside Pathway- m. 4 w.

We saw each other on the Eastside Pathway, you were an athletic, long-legged red-haired creature who I thought at first glance might even be Lindsay Lohan circa Freaky Friday, and who happened to hock up a loogie just as I was passing in the other direction.

I was the black-haired guy in basketball shorts that your loogie landed on. We made eye contact for a split second as the loogie reached the apex of its trajectory and it descended onto my shoulder.

I wish I’d stopped you to tell you how exquisite your eyes were. Shining, gleaming. Exactly like the loogie I wiped off my shirt when I got home.

The Net.

M 4 redhead on Lake Mary Road

My mom says I need to apologize for the things I said about you on Letsrun.com. They were rude and cruel and I didn’t mean them. Your mustache didn’t look like a fox shed five of its hairs onto your upper lip. I shouldn’t have said that. Sorry. Please don’t press charges.

Central Park w4w

stravangel1 for runnayogigrl224 :

I know you were there. I’m just not sure who you were. I keep replaying the women I saw in my mind- were you the one with the water bottle belt? Maybe the lady inserting an entire Gu with the wrapper still sealed into her mouth? Wearing a trash bag? The girl talking on her phone while running?? Could she have really been the one to claim my Great Lawn Oval and Alexander Hamilton Statue loop course record?

What’s important is you know who you are. And this is your last warning. Stay away from my segment.

Los Angeles, Griffith Park

Me: guy from the trail that heads up to the observatory. I was running there around noon, when the sun was high overhead and my mouth was already feeling dry. I rounded a corner and as the orange-ish dust cleared before me I saw you. It was incredible, I felt my heart instantly speed up at least 10 more bpm. Goosebumps. Like a cloud of dandelion florets whispering softly against the base of my neck, tickling an explosion of tension and chills shivering down my spine. I blinked. Were you real? A mirage? (I was pretty thirsty.) You weren’t supposed to hit the market for at least two months.

You: the new self-propelling automated flyknit air max ware from Nike. In aquamarine. I blinked for too long, you and the dumb human whose smelly feet you were gracing weren’t there.

Along the Chahles Rivah

W for G(O.A.T.)

I woke up with the alarm this morning and almost didn’t go for a run. Thought about that commercial for the new Dunky’s bacon ice cream flavored coolatta. A lot. But, I said, no. What would TB12 do. I fist bumped my life-sized cutout of Gronky (wish Fathead could figure out a way to have him fistbump back) and turned on the Dropkick Murphy’s. I ran toward the smahtys in Cambridge and took the MIT bridge.

You were jogging ahead of me. I started to think your head looked familiar. Your stride. I coughed to see if I could get you to look back. Eventually I just yelled “Tawwm”! And you turned. It was you. The greatest most magnificent of all time, most high–TB12.

I would have said something to tell you how you’ve given my middle-aged school principal life a sense of meaning. But I had choked on my own shock-vomit and passed out. When I woke up to the EMTs you were gone.

Houston Marathon

anonymous for unknown.

You cheered for me in the last mile and it enabled me to reach deep and find another gear. In the process of gear-finding, I urinated on myself. And when I looked up, tears were streaming down your cheeks. Were they from disgust, fear, or emotional inspiration? I waver constantly from shame and self-hatred to deeply moved by the humanity of our world. If you’re out there, don’t tell me what you felt. I don’t want to know.

If you or someone you know has fallen in love while on the run, please do not hesitate to shoot me and email and maybe we can make this a weekly segment with Paul’s illustrations to go along with it. Email your Missed Connections on the Run to jmmack23@gmail.com with “Missed Connection” on the subject line.