hehehe...undetected, I seize the opportunity to work on my letter.....
Dear Uptight Trail Runner,
You took an absolutely magical moment and, with your sourpuss attitude, wrecked it. Fortunately, your nonsense is not contagious as I still embrace the beauty, grace and artistry of the moment.
While enjoying a Sunday morning traipsing around on my Mistress and enjoying the spring weather and a slowly improving level of fitness, I encountered you roughly half way through the trip. You were simply nothing more than another faceless and nameless occupant of the single track ribbon of dirt. There were dozens more just like you on the busy trail so I paid you, just like the others, no further attention aside from a courtesy "Good morning," or "Thanks for letting me by."
Newly downloaded music thumped in my ears while my virtual pacers accompanied me. As the miles added up, it became time for my favorite part of the run, a long descent with multiple switchbacks. My engine worked hard throughout the distance and it's always a joy to let my heart and lungs return to a fast idle while I kick the transmission in neutral and let gravity take over, pulling my body down the mountain.
Earlier, I had encountered Garmin Guy. He raised his wrist to view his high-tech Garmin gadget and wore a matching Garmin running shirt. Noticing him ahead of me, I challenged myself to try to catch him. It's not the competitive drive to beat someone, but merely challenging oneself to push hard with a goal that may/may not be within reach.
With churning legs, I was closing the gap and noticed you step aside to allow Garmin Guy bye. Hearing my thundering footfalls, you turned to see my approach and I offered a token "thank you" while whizzing past. Upon catching Garmin Guy, he stopped at the top of the only really steep and technical portion of the descent, which happens to be my favorite section. I jitterbugged down the steep rocky trail and hit the switchback and turned with a spin.
There you were, suspended in mid-air with a floating ponytail, while cutting the corner short. Obviously, you had been on my tail and opted to take the lead.
"Nice!" I erupted as you blitzed down the trail ahead of me.
Hmmm...
Being passed by women is nothing new and it doesn't bother me one bit, I actually admire them. But, just like Garmin Guy, here was another opportunity to push hard and see if I could at least keep up with you. As your legs ate up the trail, I hit the afterburners and tucked in right behind you. It wasn't a creeper move as there was nothing sexual about it as it resembled a bicycle racer drafting tightly behind another racer. Together, we entered an incredible trail dance that was not a slow and flowery ballroom waltz. We partnered into a high-speed, dangerous tango that kept accelerating while somehow remaining totally synchronized while stampeding down the trail. I became your shadow.
Our strides, foot placements and arm swings were perfectly matched, much like highly drilled soldiers marching in a parade, but our footing was on a craggy mountain trail. Movements were fast, fluid and, I'll admit it, kind of spooky because if you wiped out, I would have joined you and vice versa. As my eyebrows arched relishing the moment, I wondered how long it would last. At about that time, you stepped off to the right and allowed me to pass.
I pushed hard to the parking lot and you arrived a short time later. I was smiling upon recognizing that after years of trail running, that snapshot in time on the trail had morphed into a brief display of crafted art rather than a workout. It was a first and I walked towards you to offer thanks.
"Thanks for that pacing, it was fun!" I eagerly blurted.
"I'm not out here to prove anything to you!" you snapped back without even looking at me. Caught off-guard, I bit my tongue and returned to my vehicle.
If you are all butt-hurt that this old man ran you down, get over it. If I offended you in some way, sorry, and again, get over it. If you're simply that miserable of a human being, I'll gladly run you down, again and again, because there isn't room on the Mistress for your rancid attitude. I found that brief jaunt indescribable and wish it was caught on videotape to see if the precision looks anywhere close to how unbelievable it felt.
Anyways, I won't let your bitter comment be a buzz-kill. It was good stuff!
By the way, there's this stuff called deodorant...try it out sometime.
The Moustache
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