Jogger Wars, Part Deux

Tuesday, 8/24
AM: 11 miles

Monday, 8/23
AM: 10 miles
PM: Greenapple

Both of these runs were solo jaunts along the familiar Freedom Park/Myers Park/Booty Loop roads. Tuesday I did venture out on a bit of an exploratory route that found me taking the newly completed bike path all the way past Super Target, then heading back toward Queens on some pleasantly shaded side streets. I also ran into Coach Simmons trotting up the median on Queens Road so we jogged along together for a few minutes and caught up on life, running and his search for an assistant coach to fill Jenna's shoes.

The only other thing of note is the jogger war I was forced into on Monday. I've mentioned this before, but apparently I haven't been clear enough to some people (i.e., the toolbag who wouldn't leave me alone on Monday): Stop. Following. Me. More specifically, either run at an appropriate distance behind me or man up and pass. Either of these courses of action would be completely acceptable. What is not acceptable is when you speed up in an attempt to catch me, then sit on my shoulder for three miles of what was supposed to be my easy, relaxing recovery run. Despite what you might think, the sounds of your labored breathing and heavy footfalls are not exactly music to my ears. By the time I reached the intersection of Providence and Providence I'd had enough. I knew I could either come to an abrupt stop so he would be forced to pass or throw in a surge to shake him off my shoulder. In weighing those two options I thought not about what would give me more satisfaction, but rather what would shame him the most. Naturally, I opted for the surge. For a few seconds I heard him scrambling behind me in an attempt to respond and then he faded into oblivion. Serves him right.