Week: 11

Distance: 18 miles

At 6:00 PM last Sunday, I was ready to go for my long run.  My timing was very purposeful: it was late enough that the effects of my hangover from the night before were minimal, but early enough that I would be home in time for Curb Your Enthusiasm at 9:00 P.M (after the Palestinian chicken episode the week before, I knew I couldn’t settle for watching a later re-run).  At 18 miles, this was my longest run yet.  I was really counting on seeing my “friends” out on the road for encouragement.  By “friends”, I’m referring to the other regular runners who I often pass during my workouts, and with whom I have formed tacit relationships.  Just as I expected, they did not let me down.

Three miles in, I passed one of my closest friends, “the-old-guy-who-I-mutter-obscenities-with.”  Our relationship began during the heat wave that struck Chicago in early July (for New York readers, this was the same heat wave that hit you guys a week later, when the forecast read “Feels Like: 104 degrees”).  As I passed him during that blistering hot afternoon, feeling like I was literally about to pass out, I couldn’t help but exclaim, “Holy sh*t, it’s f***ing hot!”  The guy managed to display a hint of a smile and respond between gasps, “It’s f***ing brutal man!”  We’ve been friends ever since.  As we passed each other during the run currently being described though, it was relatively cool out and I was still feeling fresh.  We gave each other thumbs up and went our separate ways.

Around 5 miles later, I passed the man who I consider to be my best friend out on the road, “the-bald-dude-with-the-tan-line.”  I consider this guy my best friend not so much because he encourages me, but rather because I can’t help but laugh when I look at him.  This makes me forget that I’m running for a few moments.  Though I don’t see “the-bald-dude-with-the-tan-line” every day, I always know I will see him during my long runs on Sundays.  When I saw him for the first time a few weeks ago, I didn’t take much note of him.  He just looked like a really sunburned bald guy wearing a hat.  The next time I saw him though, his hat was off and I nearly stopped dead in my tracks.  The best way I can describe him is as a ‘reversed pig in a blanket’ (i.e. hot dog around the bread– the bread is his scalp, the hot dog is every other part of his body).  I had never seen anything like it!  I never saw him again with the hat on.  Each time I pass him now, I wonder if he’s not wearing his hat because he’s trying to get rid of the tan line.  I just wish I could say to him, “Give up man, you’re never gonna rid of that thing!”  As I passed him nearing the halfway point of this 18-mile run, my best friend unknowingly provided me with much-needed comedic relief.

However, I will most identify this run with a random confrontation when I look back on it.  With only 4 miles left, I was beginning to pick up my pace for a strong finish.  I was feeling surprisingly confident as I lengthened my strides.  My Morning Jacket’s “First Light” was blasting in my head for motivation.  Suddenly, a black SUV drove by.  A teenaged kid stuck his head out the window.  He wore dark sunglasses (though the sun had set by this point), and no shirt at all.  For a moment, we made eye contact.  Then, he shouted out, “NERD!” and sped away.  I was shocked.  Why did this high school kid feel the need to put me down?  Was it my ankle socks?  The short shorts?  The fanny pack for running I bring on my long runs?  Shattered, I screamed out, “Why!?” hoping to find some explanation for the insult.  But he was gone.

I suppose one thing this story shows is the many different hardships runners face.  It’s more than just the physical stuff: strained muscles, shin-splints, chafing, etc.  Running involves many emotional hardships as well, something I learned first hand from my teenaged tormentor.  If I ever see him again (believe me, I’d recognize him if I saw him), I’ll be sure to get my revenge.