First run Sunday

Before I went running this morning, I was perturbed about one thing.  Dogs.  Whether I was going to be chased by them. I thought back to the days when I was skinny, then I would go out for a six mile run and think nothing of it when I returned.  I would wash get dressed and didn't show a single bit of fatigue.  It was so easy.  I kept wanting to improve my time and get faster but I reached a plateau and couldn't improve on it.  Cold and wet days would harm my motivation because it took a while to warm up and fight off the cold or the rain.  On every run though, it would be dogs and cars I'd be wary off.  Dogs because they like to chase things and there is nothing better for a dog than to chase after a man running.  It's like they have some kind of instinct which says if this man is running he must be a rabbit, a big rabbit, but a rabbit.  I'll have a bit of him if I can.  Owners would shout at their dogs who in turn were temporarily prone to going deaf.  You learnt to give dogs as big a detour as possible, or to slow down and walk up to them and just past them.  They had no reason then.  They like to bark and scare runners, I'm sure it's not encouragement it's the expecting a bit of rabbit bark, this is why they are so loud.

Cars or rather all traffic is another danger because there is always a time when a road has to be crossed.  When running you just want to get across it as quickly as possible.  Standing still and waiting for traffic isn't a good thing to do.  You get cold and are then vulnerable, but you're more vulnerable in getting run over by a car as well.  There is the fast head turn which is developed.  Looking over your shoulder quickly to see if there is a gap in the traffic or on a quiet road there is nothing about to come out of a turning or speeding along for the moment of crossing.  It can be a risky business crossing a road.  A human being will always come of worse.  Because you have to do road running there's always exhaust fumes to put up with and wonder how much you are exposed to the diseases of exhaust smoke against the health benefits of a run.  This is why getting out and pavement pounding on an early Sunday morning is a must.  It's convenient, less cars around and more freedom in getting across the road.

I saw an old man out jogging while I was feebly trotting along.  He was unlike other old men and was a jogger himself.  He was fit, very fit, running faster than me, he was also tanned, like he must of been on holiday.  He wore a white t-shirt and imprinted on the front were some words which indicated he was a member of a running club.  One of the codes of joggers is to raise a hand as you pass each other, to say hi.  I saw him and said hi with my hand.  He raised his, but I felt he might of felt obliged to raise it rather than raise it because he genuinely was saying hi.  It annoyed me, but I'm fat and was going in the opposite direction.  So at the moment I have no say, no stamina, no ability to raise or allow testosterone driven motivation to kick my heal and take off.  I was closer to a walk than a jog.  But it didn't matter.  It was a start.  One day I'll be his age.  Hopefully not called fatboy either.