Today: I ran for just over 30 minutes. I ran the perimeter of Boulder Ridge (my subdivision), The Cove (the wannabe subdivision next to us) and Sawgrass (the subdivision across the main road). I tried to push myself for the middle 10 minutes of the run. It was a great run. I'm always amazed by how slowly the first ten minutes seem to go, then how quickly the remainder goes. Today's run came at the end of a fairly stressful day, a day filled with various things that had me unusually riled. Running is somewhat therapeutic for me. Sometimes that therapy involves ranting in my head about ridiculous things that bother runners. Hence the promised lighter stuff.
Things that bother at least this runner:
- Sprinklers. Don't water the sidewalk. Not only is it a gross waste of natural resources, it's just annoying. I have to run out into the street or stand there and wait for the sprinkler to oscillate away from the sidewalk. If it were hotter or if I weren't wearing mascara I might delight in running through your water. But the rest of the time it just annoys me.
- If you park on the sidewalk I will run through your yard. And I'll not keep it to a minimum. And I'm secretly hoping you see me. And if possible, I'll run close enough to the parked car to set off its anti-theft alarm. It's the runner's equivalent of "We don't dive in your toilet so don't pee in our pool." Classy, I know.
- Dogs. If your dog is not behind a fence it had better be on a leash. If it chases me I will read its name off of its collar and stand there and yell for its owner until you or your neighbors hear me. I'm really not into being chased by dogs.
- The walkers who refuse to acknowledge me. Honestly people, we're the ONLY two people on an otherwise 100% empty street (empty to the point that the houses haven't even been built yet). What is the deal with staring straight ahead as if I weren't there? I don't get it. At all.
- I really thought about listing kids and their toys, but honestly it's usually pretty cute. Nine times out of ten the kids don't know what to do about me and we get a little "deer in the headlights" situation. I mean, honestly, does the basketball hoop need to be in the middle of the sidewalk? Probably not. But the three-year-old who stares at me is adorable enough to excuse the toys.