Wednesday, January 11, 2012

The Paranoid Runner

For run #3 this week, I forewent the waterfront run for a path that starts and ends at my apartment. It was nice to not have to drive before/after the run, and the sidewalks are a bit better maintained than the bike path. However, I'm not a huge fan of running next to cars and breathing in exhaust fumes. Fortunately, there are not a lot of intersections or traffic lights on this route, so I didn't have to do that awkward-jogging-in-place-waiting-for-the-walk-sign thing. I hate that.

I'm not going to share my exact running routes on this public blog, for obvious safety reasons. I'm happy to share this with my real life friends, though. Just ask me. On this blog, I also might throw in some mild inaccuracies about where I'm running/live in order to throw off potential stalkers. Am I really that paranoid? I guess so. We live in a strange world. I don't know who's reading this, and I want to keep it public.

Speaking of safety, I was thinking today about other ways I try to keep myself safe on my runs. Running can be dangerous business -- out there on your own, carless, miles away from your home, among cars and strangers and ice. There's a few things I've learned from experience - don't blare my iPod so loud I can't hear anything, stay to the right side of the path (especially when turning corners), run during the day time in populated areas, etc.

One of the scariest things - because I've heard countless recounts of this very thing happening to other runners and causing varying degrees of injuries - is running in front of a car that is making a right turn when the runner is approaching from the right. This most frequently happens at 4-way stop signs and at the end of driveways. I think I do the same thing when I'm driving - if you're taking a right, you look to the left. If it's clear, you go. No need to look to the right. So, if I'm approaching a car in this situation, I'll try to make eye contact with the driver. If they don't look at me, I don't go. If I'm not sure if they're about to drive or not, or if I'm feeling particularly impatient, I'll tap on the passenger-side window or on the hood to get their attention. It's easier when it's warmer and their windows are open, and I can just be like, "hi! I exist! don't hit me!" I try to not be annoying, but it's nice to not get hit by a car.

I realized that I haven't mentioned at this point that I am training with my fiance, LTB. "With" used loosely - he runs a bit faster than me. We start out together, maybe the first 1/2 mile, and then he takes off and I fall behind. Sometimes when I tell people that we don't run together, I get a sad face, or LTB gets a judgmental look, like he should slow down and wait for me.

People, come on. We're training for a marathon. Don't give me that.

I think when we started training for the 2010 marathon (my first marathon), I was more bitter about it, like I would enjoy running more and be more motivated if I had someone to run with and chat with the whole time. Eventually I realized that it's far more important for each of us to run at our own pace and work on our times individually. For me at least, long distance running is quite an individualized, private venture.

Also, after running a couple races with others who do run the same pace as me, I realized running with others can often be annoying and not helpful. Sometimes I don't want to talk. Sometimes I want the time think through stuff, or not think at all and get lost in the moment (hence, the pensive runner). Sometimes running puts me in a foul mood and I'm in no mood for small talk.

I take that back. I never enjoy small talk. Even when I'm in a good mood and at a complete rest.

Anyway, having LTB around, even if he's a mile ahead of me, is another safety measure. We tend to run the same path to and from a location, starting and ending our run in the same place. This means that he'll pass me on his way back, and see that I'm still in one piece. I've also asked that if he returns home (or wherever the run began) and he doesn't see me within 15 minutes (or whatever amount of time seems appropriate given the length of the run), to go back and look for me to make sure I'm ok. Of course I didn't really need to ask him to do this, he would anyway - I just like to hear things like this said out loud for my own comfort.

I haven't timed my last two runs. I didn't have my iGadget with me, because my headphones haven't arrived yet. Running without music isn't necessarily a bad thing, I've learned. I think I pay attention to my body more. But running with music is more fun. I hope my new ear buds get here tomorrow.

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