Stalked on a Run

Ever been stalked on a run? Ever have some stranger drive past you a half dozen times, then stop and wait for you every half mile or so? It happened to me today. But, I wasn’t going to call the police or pull out my pepper spray because….

I was being photographed for a story that will run in the Longmont Times Call on Tuesday. Little insignificant me. I was interviewed this week about running and the blog. Don't worry, I emphasized poop and all things potty because if I can’t be authentic, then what can I be?

This morning the newspaper photographer came to the house at 7:00 a.m. to get some pictures. He told me to run my normal course and that he would take pictures along the way. It was a four mile recovery run for me today after a fast nine miles yesterday. I thought Mr. Ansel Adams might stay with me for a mile or so, so I was doing my best to keep a quick pace and look like I had good form. I held it together pretty well until mile three when he was still on my tail. Like clockwork he would zoom by me in his little newspaper SUV, then stop at the corner, grab his phallic camera lens and go to town. He actually stayed with me for the whole run, so I had to keep it together the entire time looking as if it was effortless. I tried not to sweat. I held the farts in. I tried to appear nonchalant. I’m not sure if I pulled it off. At the end of the run he said, huffing and puffing, “Man, that seemed longer than four miles.” Yeah, you bet it did Mr. Let Me Drive My Air Conditioned Vehicle and Watch You Run.

When I got home Ken sent me an email asking how the photo shoot was and if I crapped along the side of the road for the photographer. I told him, “No, I did it directly on the lens since we had corn last night.” I told the reporter what Ken said. Her reaction, “I don’t think he does that angle.” He doesn’t do the crap angle. Priceless.

So, I will be officially famous in this very small town of Longmont, Colorado. Unless, of course, the story gets picked up by the AP Wire (that is reporter talk) and I go state or even national. Then it could get interesting.

As for now, I’m enjoying watching my son rock out with his band (see my little man on drums):

I used to get wasted, man, and rock out to this song at frat parties, so it brings back good memories.  What I like about you!

Don’t forget my take the pain away giveaway!