I’ve been getting lots of chances to play my favorite game, “Running for Exercise?” lately. It’s a simple but fun game: try to figure out if people you see are running for exercise or not.
Yesterday: I saw a guy, but I was watching him through the windows of my own car and the car in front of me. At first I got a distinctive running-for-exercise vibe. And then I saw him once he reached the other side of the street and realized he was wearing skinny jeans and smoking a cigarette. Running to Cross the Street.
This morning: I saw a guy running who was wearing what looked like a fairly athletic looking jacket. But then he stopped at a parking garage, turned so I could see his name tag, and pulled out keys. Running Because He’s the Valet.
Last night I may have been a tricky case if someone was playing. I was on the running trail in Wash Park, wearing workout clothes, headphones in, Garmin on. But then I turned off the path and made a beeline for a portapotty. Running for Emergency.
(OMG, though, Wash Park has so! many! bathrooms! I was so happy I was not in Cheesman.)
Running in Wash Park was new for me, and very different from running in my own colorful neighborhood. I’ve heard this neighborhood described as Highlands Ranch (a pink houses suburb) but with older homes. I’ve heard it described as all strollers and golden retrievers. So to pass the time last night during my (nine miles takes a looong time at my pace), I counted the Golden Retrievers (seven) and lululemon logos (nine!). Toto, I have a feeling we’re not in Five Points anymore…