Sunday, January 25, 2015


Consistent running for the past two weeks--including a couple long runs--has been a welcome return to routine. 

Fifteen miles yesterday was nice and reflective. About halfway through the trek, I was feeling confident and healthy, thinking, Hey, I got this. I'm back. I got mad running skills. 
As these and other thoughts of grandeur flowed freely through my mind, I heard the familiar warning, "on your left," coming from behind me. 
I moved over to the right side of the trail to make room for a guy pushing his child in a jogging stroller. 
Ah, yes, I thought. I remember those days taking the kids on my morning run. Good for him. 
I glanced over to give my fellow father a kind nod and word of encouragement. 

And that is when I was passed by a dude pushing a punching bag and a 45-pound plate in a jogging stroller up a hill at a much faster clip than I was able to muster with only a half-empty Nathan pack and an empty granola bar wrapper. 

Screw that guy. 

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