Day 12

I know I wrote yesterday about how apprehensive I get about exercising in the dark, but the day had slipped away and I needed to exercise.

So off I went at about 6:15, already dark, cool but not cold (53 degrees), mostly solitary on the sidewalk.

Aside from two dog walkers who literally moved to the other side of the street as I approached (I must have loomed large in my midnight blue hoodie in the dark), the only person I encountered was a guy walking in the same direction I was going, but about ten percent slower. The effect of this was that I was very gradually getting nearer and nearer to him, again looming larger as I approached.

Sometimes, I don’t appreciate how big I am - but I can only imagine what I must have looked like, emerging from the dark, appearing to stalk this poor guy.

As I got closer, I started wondering how I should pass him. Should I do a quick jog and put some distance between us? Should I keep my walking pace and nod to him as I eased past him? Should I give him a quick “pardon me” and smile unthreateningly?

By this time, he had seen me coming, glancing over his shoulder and then trying to pretend he hadn’t. But then he’d do it again. He was like a guy in a Mini Cooper looking in his rear view mirror, worrying about the Range Rover on his tail, but not wanting to move into the slow lane because how could he live with himself, surrendering to some jerk in a big expensive car, driving like he owns the world?

I decided not to be a Range Rover. I picked up my pace, moved off the sidewalk, and gave him the “pardon me” smile as I passed by. He smiled back, maybe in relief.

Looming large in the dark…

As I was on the walk, my phone rang. It was Lisa, wanting to discuss some details about Christmas vacation. I tried to keep my pace going, but there’s something about holding your phone and conversing while exercising that breaks your focus. Look at my splits for this five mile walk and see if you can tell when I was on the phone:

The walk was okay - I was generously anti-chafed and wearing thick running socks and my Hokas. As the walk concluded, my feet were aching a little and the left quad started complaining a little, but not sharply. I will say that the last two hundred yards seemed to take forever, but I’m slowly easing back into my old marathoner’s patience - one step at a time.

I’m glad I braved the dark.