I am a people person, even when it comes to exercise.
I don’t like to work out alone, probably why I’ve taught aerobics for 11 years.
And while I enjoy teaching class with just a few people (“small but strong,” we like to say), I love the energy created when 12 or 15 or even 20 people show up to exercise together.
When on I work out on a machine, I like for someone else to be sweating and panting nearby. Even a brisk walker will do.
It’s more than their company I crave, it’s their energy. I think I may be an energy vampire.
So running alone is a challenge.
I decided to become a runner a few years ago so I could exercise more easily while traveling. You can run almost anytime, almost anywhere, as long as you have shoes.
I used to run with Dixie, who had a mighty surplus of energy to share. I occasionally run with my friend Ashley, when our schedules collide for 45 minutes.
Lots of friends prefer running alone, with only their thoughts for companionship. Stephen used to compose his sermons on long runs.
But I’ve discovered I’m not very good company. I can’t keep me going.
So I run in busy areas, stealing energy from people I pass, or other runners who pass me. Construction workers, kids, stray cats, they all feed my habit.
I barely even encountered traffic while running on the prairie this summer. One car every couple minutes.
At the end of my first mile I would pass an elk farm. Some days they would be pressed to the fence, offering me an energy boost with 20 pairs of wide eyes. Other days, they slept in a distant field, only towering antlers visible over the tall grass.
Apparently, elk do not come when called.
Around the corner, I usually saw a flock of wild turkeys. Despite my best turkey call, these nervous birds quickly waddled into the shelterbelt, away from the gobbling woman looking for a poultry pick-me-up.
One hot day I was fading fast when a big yellow Lab bounced down his driveway to greet me. Oh, he was ready to run.
C’mon pooch, I willed him. Just a quarter mile at my side, then you can turn back.
But his owner showed up and grabbed his collar with an apology.
Oh, I don’t mind, really. In fact, can I borrow your dog, or at least his vigor?
There was a hill on my route; the prairie is not entirely flat. A herd of lazy cows liked to watch with amusement as I tackled this seeming behemoth at the end of my run, offering no refill for my empty tank.
I did have one energetic companion on the prairie, the same one I have on the beach. The wind. Friend or foe? It’s hard to know.
You can’t run on either of these vast, open venues in July without the wind, it’s just too hot. But the beating you take! I found myself cursing the wind one minute, then begging it to come back the next.
Two of my kids are already asking for iPods for Christmas this year. I think I’ll have something new to steal for runs in 2008.
nnn
Emily Ford is a freelance writer living in Salisbury.