You said early mornings, as if that explained why you were not melting

It was forty four degrees on the Corniche and you jogged past in perfect white sneakers, entirely dry, like a person from another climate. I was walking slowly and melting. I said, how, and you said, early mornings, and laughed. You ran on. I went back the next morning at six. You were there. I was still very sweaty, but earlier. We nodded. This has been going on for three weeks. I do not know your name. I know your sneakers very well.