Because I tend to do most of my runs in one of two directions around the lakefront around the same time in the morning, I tend to see many of the same faces. I don't know who they are, we never talk, half the time we are running opposite directions, but it is comforting to see them back now that running season is in full swing (even if its 42, foggy, windy and running this morning). Since I don't know their actual names, I have nick names for each of them based solely on appearances. There is the Keep on Truckin' Man, a hispanic guy with a mustache and a pony tail who always runs shirtless and looks vaguely like the R.Crumb cartoon figure. There is the Bobble Head guy, an older Phillipino guy who also runs shirtless. He is so skinny, his running gait is so odd, and his head is so large that he looks likes he is going to fall over sometimes. Then there is the beehive lady who has some sort of elaborate hairdo carefully wrapped in gauzy fabric piled high atop her head. There is also an albino guy who power walks while covered from head to toe regardless of the heat. Finally, there is the Joggler, a guy in his late thirties who tuns endless effortless 8 minute miles while doing a perfect three ball weave juggling pattern.
The only folks I actually know who I ever see are Mark, a general counsel of a real estate company, who never sees me because he runs without his glasses and Ellen, a former neighbor, who runs 6 miles a day, seven days a week (which would be considerably more than me) who won't tackle races of any distance.
Interesting and diverse group out there.
Wonder what they wonder call me?
No comments:
Post a Comment