Today I took a quick run along the river bike way. It’s been cold, so there weren’t many other people out.
I like running in the cold. It helps me feel superior to my other self who likes to stay inside and eat cookies. I was about halfway into my run, when I saw this older looking man (who is probably my age) jogging slowly along. His face was wrapped in layers of wool with only his shaggy mustache and his downcast eyes visible. I felt comfortably superior since I was nearly bareheaded and keeping a pace about twice his. Poor guy, I thought. He probably wishes he were as strong and fast as me. I thought I’d make him feel better about his pitiful condition by saying something friendly like, “Beautiful day, don’t you think?” He nodded, apparently unable to catch his breath. I continued on, not thinking any more about it.
Just as I was finishing my last stretch, a car pulled next to me and the mustachioed jogger was yelling something friendly at me. I smiled and waved. He stopped his car and continued talking to me, so I pulled out my earphones . “I said, how far are you running today?”
“Four miles.”
“Oh. Only four. I just finished five. Have a good day.”
That really pissed me off. So, of course, I had to run a couple extra miles just to show him before I could go to my warm house and feed my other self some cookies.