Damn Girl

As I was running yesterday (well I call it running although technically according to research I’ve done, my speed doesn’t hit the minimum speed for running…evidently my fastest is still a slow jog!), I was thinking that maybe I need to start keeping track of the sounds and messages directed towards me while I’m out and about.

Maybe it could grow into its own blog….

Anyway, my thought was, maybe it would be a good self-esteem booster when I need it. You would think just being able to run more than a dozen miles and being the strong female I am, I wouldn’t need ego boosters often, but you’d be wrong. I have my self-conscious days. And on those days, maybe it would help to remember that when I was returning to my office after an outdoor lunch on Friday, July 24, a man in a truck wearing a football jersey wolf whistled at me. Or that last week when I was running one of my 3-mile loops through downtown neighborhoods that an older black man nearly wrecked his motorbike twisting his head around to watch me run (he looked pretty stupid, but still entertaining for me).

Of course, one friend’s favorite is when the young black man at the bus stop yelled “Run, White Bitch, Run!” in my direction (I was the only white “bitch” running or jogging in that area at the time). I choose to believe it was meant as encouragement and admiration rather than the alternative.

So yesterday I netted a “Damn Girl” complete with once over as I made my way by on the city street near the State Capitol building (“Damn Girl” tends to be a favorite). Not bad for a Monday.

Sometimes I run on trails and others on the city sidewalks and although the trails tend to be a little faster since I do not have to stop to cross traffic as often, they aren’t nearly as entertaining…there aren’t many spectators on the trails (but I do instead have to deal with idiots who have no concept of trail etiquette with the long dog leashes…but that’s another blog altogether).

I guess when you’re so slow that occasionally walkers pass you in races (yeah, I’m not joking) I need a little reminder on occasion of why I still bother lacing up my shoes and running, jogging whatever, my ass off (oh, yeah, that’s the other reason I do it—the ass thing, I do like to eat).