When I'm out pounding the pavement, I rarely think about who might be passing me in a car. Even if I did think about it, I usually can't see who's behind the wheel. For one thing, I have poor vision. And for another, windshields these days tend to be pretty dark and do a good job of whoever's driving the car.
The drivers can see me, but I never think about that, either, until somebody mentions it.
A couple of days ago, I was in the post office. I handed the postal clerk the package I wanted to mail, and she said, "Do you run every day?" It turned out that she drives to work every morning about the time I'm sweating it out on the streets of Alvin, and she sees me all the time. I told her that I run six days a week if I can, and her next question was the same one everybody else asks. "How far do you run?"
I used to be able to answer that one, but not anymore. There was a time when I ran eight minute miles. Those days are long gone. Now I have no idea how fast I run. I don't want to know. Maybe I'm in denial. At any rate, I used to run five miles. Now I just run for forty minutes. Maybe I'm going only three miles now, but if I am, don't tell me. As I said, I don't want to know.
So I told her that I didn't count the miles, just the minutes. She thought that was a good idea because she does the same thing. Every morning she gets up, has her coffee, and walks three minutes on the treadmill. Every little bit helps.
6 comments:
I get that, too, Bill. I am running and someone drives by and honks and I don't know if it is a friendly honk or a "get off my road" type of honk.
I always assume it's "get off my road."
I assume that as well and then later I get chided for not waving back at someone who assumed I could see who they were and what they were doing.
Wait...between this post and one on POP CULTURE recently, I'm getting the impression that my work regimen of sitting at my desk for fourteen hours and working most of that with mininam movement below the waist isn't optimal...but how can That Be?
When I lived in NJ with Alice, I would pass, after dropping Alice off in Center City and then going on Radnor, this one power walker, a woman in a tennis dress every summer day and in snowsuit every winter day, out on Rt. 30, looking grimly determined. Always. I always feared that she felt or was compelled to make that daily trek. She was out there in nearly every weather.
Minman?
Sadly, the article on Pop Culture Mag about sitting all day says that's a big problem even if you exercise. Drat.
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