Running around the race course sucks, it sucks because every Granny/Grampa you run past asks obvious questions like:
1. “Nice run Dear?”
2. “Going for a run are we?”
3. “Fabulous day for a jog isn’t it?”
I wish I could answer these questions like this:
1. “No, its terrible. I want to die. I think I may actually be dying. Nice Zimmer frame Granny”
2. “No, I’m just trying to build up kinetic energy to power my home made jet pack, it just LOOKS like running”
3. “You know what this weather is awesome for Pops? Nothing, that’s what”
Yes, I’m an angry person.
The reality of the situation is I’m trying to run and control my breathing so I don’t pass out and die from an asthma attack. Leave me alone.
On a side note, the one not so little kid from the domestic quarters said as I ran past “Hello Mam, nice shoes”
Won’t be doing that route anymore, I like my shoes.
Moral of the story, if you see me running. Wave. That’s all. Don’t chat to me. At all.