I always run with both my Garmin and my little iPod Shuffle. I’m obsessive about checking my pace and the distance; I’ve tried to break the habit, but no can do. And the music is just motivating to me, so when I realized that I was without and had a five-miler on my plate, I plodded out the door with just myself and my deep, deep thoughts.
5pm: I left the office at 5pm on the dot. Good thing Hallie is awesome and had a knee brace that I could borrow because I managed to forget that, too. General life #fail today.
Seriously Owings Mills, would it be that hard to put a sidewalk in a long Crondall Lane? So annoying to have to run on grass.
Oh, there is a nice wind at my back. Wait, that means I’m going to be running into the wind on the way back. Shit.
Someone dropped their sparkly black clutch on the sidewalk. Walk of shame?
They always say the runners are the ones who find the dead bodies. I could easily stumble upon a dead body in these woods that border the street because everyone drives by so quickly and would never see it. Or someone could kill me and the cars flying by would’ve even notice.
I have to have gone about a mile by now. (It was 1.1 miles.) I spy Kristin’s car with her “Baby on Board” sign, so I stop to say hi.
I vaguely remember a running trail behind Maryland Public Television’s building, so I turned up the long gradual hill. After a loop around the parking lot I’m not seeing the trail. Maybe it was a figment of my imagination? The downhill back to Owings Mills Boulevard feels good, though.
I should be around 2 miles by now. (I was at about 2.25.) I can go about another mile and then turn around. [Insert absolutely menial boring thoughts about grass, sidewalks and suburban neighborhoods. I may have muttered something about cul-de-sacs.]
Alright, time to turn around. I think I am about 3 miles. Oh! I realize that I have my Fitbit on me, which has mileage and time. It’s 5:28pm and I’ve gone a little over 3 miles. I forgot that I am always wearing technology. 21st century for the win!
Alright, if I ran a 9:17 mile in the middle of an 11-mile run over the weekend, I can pick up the pace little bit going back—except that I’m running directly into the wind.
I realize that a lot of these cars passing me are very likely my co-workers. Hi, co-workers!
Remember that I look really mean and kind of like a bulldog but when I run. Please don’t judge me, co-workers.
Can everyone please slow down? You are all driving so fast and pushing the wind against me. It really sucks.
About a mile to go. Is that another runner up ahead of me? It would be so nice to have someone to run toward.
Oh no. It’s just some old guy in the Nike windbreaker. Are people still wearing windbreakers?
Someone honks at me. I assume it is a co-worker so I wave. If it’s not, that’s really obnoxious. Don’t do that to runners. It terrifies us.
Turning for the final stretch! Screw these cars, I’m running in the road.
Ahh, it’s the geese. They’re staring at me. They’re coming toward me. At least if they kill me, someone might find me.
Back to the office but thinking maybe I should do one lap around the building for good measure. I’d be pissed if all this effort didn’t get me to 5 miles. (Good thing I did. I didn’t hit 5 miles until I was halfway around the building.) 5.1 miles in 49 minutes.
Are you as bored as I was?