I went running with Sam, my buddy, this morning. He drives to my house and we go running from here because he lives in a rubbish part of the island for running. There are no pavements near his house. I wait near the window for him to arrive and when he pulls up and I go out to meet him. What’s he wearing when he show up this morning? Black shorts, black vest and a fucking white cap – although his was just a visor. The exact same things I’m wearing – although mine was a full cap.
I told him one of us was going to have to get changed as we couldn’t go running dressed the same as that would be fucked up. But he lives miles away and I couldn’t be bothered. So we went running looking like a pair of fucking idiots. It couldn’t get worse, right?
The run went fine. My nipples were a bit sore and down a country lane – one of the few parts of the run without a pavement – we encountered a duck and its baby ducks. Ducklets. They were running away from us down the lane. I think ducklets are cute as fuck.
No biggie. No problem. Even when I saw that a car was approaching from the other direction I wasn’t concerned. As it was a narrow back-lane the car was travelling slowly and I didn’t feel the ducks were in any danger. They were running as fast as we were. The car, or to be precise its driver, stopped when it saw the ducks approach. The ducks ran past the car safely. I told the driver, as I ran past, “they’ve gone past,” you know? Because she wouldn’t have been able to see the ducks due to their lowness. Guess how she replied to my helpful notice.
Do you want to know?
“Don’t chase the ducks.” That’s what she said.
I couldn’t even believe it and by the time it sunk in it was way too late to respond.