I went for a run today.
My first outside run in months and months. I’ve been sticking to the treadmill babying my wonkered left leg.
I ran my first two miles solo. At one point the trail crosses a street. As most of you know, people in cars always win against runners and bikers. So I stopped at the intersection (though it is marked that I have the right of way-but right of way rights does me no good if I’m dead). That’s when the high school track team caught up to me. But only because of the stop.
I make sure the traffic is stopped on both sides before I allow the young men to cross with me. We cross safely and I had the honor of pacing them.
They did good.
They hung with me, no complaining. No grumbling or heaving of breath.
Good job boys!
That lasted for about 2 seconds as they all dropped to single file to pass me on the narrow trail.
I don’t think they fully grasp the concept of pacing.
I think I need to have a word with their coach.
