Breaking the Morning Calm

I look forward to Saturday mornings when the weather is nice because it means that I can get up early and go for a run. Since I live so close to the bike path, I usually make that a central part of my route. I like running on the bike path because it's relatively flat, there are no cars (except at the intersections), and because it's surrounded in many places by trees that are full of leaves this time of year, it gives me the sense that I've left any stresses behind. Another bonus is that the bike path is usually empty of both foot and bike traffic before 7 a.m. on Saturdays, though on two recent consecutive Saturday I did run into legendary blogger Tommy Devine.

So, the bike path puts me in a state of reverie, if I'm lucky, and I imagine that few people I do see when I'm running--usually people out with their dogs--like the path for the same reason that I do, because it's quiet and peaceful. And with this in mind, I try not to be too intrusive. I'll smile and maybe say "good morning," but I give them a wide berth and let them continue on with their own morning meditations.

This morning I was nearing the end of my run, feeling good and healthy and oh-so superior to all of those other people who were still in bed (I blame that feeling on the endorphines), when I happened upon a woman walking her two dogs. I prepared myself for my usual, non-intrusive greeting when a bug flew into my mouth. I didn't stop running, but the hacking and spitting I had to do to expel the offending insect was loud enough to have both dogs and the woman looking at me funny.

I felt bad, but what could I do? Running in nature like that does have its downsides.

So, for what it's worth, I apologize.