Spring is just around the corner. I’ve been cooped up indoors on the Versaclimber all Winter, but soon I’ll be able to jog!
I want to run in the Marine Corps Marathon in DC this October, and get a cool Tshirt to make my Dad, a Recon veteran jealous (he’ll really want it and I won’t give it to him. I’ll just keep pretending not to get the hint. Heh heh heh.)
In order to accomplish this worthy goal I will need to train several hundred hours on the roads (The truly worthwhile things, like pissing off your Dad never come easy.)
In and of itself, this doesn’t bother me, but if I figure my average run in early spring and summer is gonna take an hour to an hour and a half, and that I’m going to do this five times a week or so, this will put me on the roads for about 8 hours a week. That’s 8 hours a week that idiot motorists will have the opportunity to either run my ass over or ask me for directions.
Running my ass over isn’t such a big deal, I’ll just jump into a ditch, but the directions really tick me off. It’s not easy stopping in the middle of a long run, and then trying to get your rythmn back. It’s not like I’m out there as an information resource for chrissakes.
The fact that I never give good directions doesn’t stop them from asking.
“Excuse me, do you know how to get to the College?”
::pant pant::
“Take the second left, and then take a right at the Cannon.”
“The Cannon?”
“Yeah, you can’t miss it.”
Later, or the next day, inevitably I’ll get stopped again.
“Excuse me, do you know how to get to Abe’s Antique store?”
::pant pant::
“Take the second left, then take a right at the Cannon.”
The Interstate?
“Take the second left, then take a right at the Cannon.”
Soccer field?
“Take the second left, then take a right at the Cannon.”
High School?
“Take the second left, then take a right at the Cannon.”
Emergency Room?
“Take the second left, then take a right at the Cannon.”
It’s kind of a one size fits all answer that stops me from having to think, or communicate lucidly while I’m standing in the middle of the road sweating and on the verge of a heart attack. The Cannon of course adds just the right touch of realism and credibility to my answer. And, they are good directions in that I rarely have to pause for than a moment, and so far nobody’s ever complained. For all I know there might even be a Cannon.
It’s either this, or jog endlessly around my fields after spraying myself with OFF to keep the ticks away (they still jump all over me,) not to mention the snakes. There’s a BB sized kinda cyst thing on the back of my right calf from the time I stepped on a snake (probably a garter,) and it bit me. That time I almost really did have a heart attack.
