There’s this Wednesday running group that I have been going to off and on since late spring.
Nobody really knows me all that well at this group, but that’s kind of their fault since I’m super-social and kind of charming (depending on who you ask) while they’re mostly cliquish. Anyway, because nobody in that group really knows me, I think I may have accidentally frightened two women on the last leg of a run that took place two weeks ago.
I mostly suck at running (well, for a person who runs a lot, anyway), and I’m almost always bringing up the rear whenever I attend any group run. Such was the case two weeks ago on the Wednesday run as I found myself in Bloomfield, about a mile away from the start and finish line in Oakland. As I started up Liberty Ave. toward South Millvale Ave., I spotted two women runners. I knew they were runners because they had running lights all over their persons. As someone who never gives a crap about being official when doing any recreational activity (I also don’t own my own bowling shoes), I do not own any running lights. Anyway, I caught up to them just as the three of us were about to turn onto South Millvale. When I finally did, I said, “Are you ladies from the running group? Cool, I’m not as far behind as I thought.” I thought nothing of this brief exchange as I crossed the street and kept on trucking toward the finish. There’s a light about a block away from the restaurant where we all met, and the two women caught up to me. One of them said, “We couldn’t see you without your lights. We were wondering where you went.” That made me feel a little uneasy, but at least the three of us would go on to have a nice conversation at the restaurant afterward. Fast-forward to last week. The whole “we couldn’t find you” remark made me realize that I should probably wear something that identified me as a runner. Therefore, I wore this reflective vest that a friend gave me. I bumped into the two ladies after the run and one of them said, “Well, you still don’t have lights, but at least you’re wearing something that makes you look like a runner. Last week, you looked like a burglar.” (For the record, I was wearing a blue tossle cap and a red hoodie the first time I encountered these ladies.)
Anyway, the burglar remark confirmed my suspicions. I actually made these ladies uncomfortable simply by being a strange man who had a brief exchange with them during a run. I guess I forget that even I, a 5’9″, 180ish-pound man can seem like a threat to women who do not know me.
Oh well, I guess I should buy some running lights.
tondef 