so I'm out the other day, doing a quick interval workout in the half-hour between work and TDP DinoBoy's gymnastics class. It's just after dark, and as I'm heading down the last few long blocks back to my house (my favorite slightly downhill section of my neighborhood, BTW, the place where I can always kick it up pace-wise at the end of my workouts), this guy comes from the opposite cross-street and ends up going in my direction, about ten yards in front of me. He's in his late teens or early twenties, but definitely not older. He's moving quickly, but I barely saw him seeing as he was wearing a dark grey cotton t-shirt, black shorts, and nothing with any reflective anything on him. As he moved in front of me, he heard me coming behind him, mostly because I was pounding it hard on a sprint interval, but also because I breathe heavy and it always sounds like I'm much closer than I really am. In any case, he didn't see me initially, because he turned around suddenly like I startled him.
At this point, I decided not to go all Mom-ish on him and chide him for not wearing a safer outfit and instead re-assured him that he was in no danger of getting chicked. He laughed a little and we both kept on. He had a really nice effortless form, and you could tell he was just out getting his run on. I meanwhile, was at the end of a set of sprint intervals that had me working really hard. So I said during my next recovery, "Seems like I'm working a LOT harder than you are here." And his response? "Yeah, well it's hard when you first start up, but once you get used to it, it's not bad..." WHAT? Once you get used to it? Argh!
I really thought about letting it go. I did. And then I didn't. I said, "Um, well, considering that I'm training for my SEVENTH! marathon, I think I'm pretty used to it by now..." And just then, my watch beeped, and I accelerated and left him behind me.* Punk.
*Granted, the end of the block was about twenty feet in front of me and he turned and I kept straight, but still.