Almost Run Over While Running

Did it feel good to try to hit me?

Another day, another 5K.

It’s my thing. Part of my daily ritual. Five days a week. Get up. Light breakfast. Run at least 5K. Write at least 1K words. The running is as much of a job as anything else I do. It keeps my blood sugar numbers in check. I took up running about fifteen years ago, in my thirties. Please refrain from doing the math, it makes me feel old.

When running, there are certain truths.

Truth 1: If you’re aiming for the sprinkler up the street to cool you down, it will shut off seven seconds before you reach it.

Truth 2: The larger the dog that is barking at you, the smaller the fence and more likely it can actually rip your face off. At the end of my block, there’s a humongous guard dog that has no fence. He’s extremely well trained, and if I run before 9AM, he’s sitting on the front steps waiting for me. He used to bark ferociously. After a familiarity of years, I am greeted with a wagging tail and happy yip. Yes, I am most sure he can still rip my face off.

Truth 3: Wiggling your fingers in greeting and making panting grunt noises at the guy who runs the other direction every day makes you best bros. I think I’m in his will.