No place to run

I get jogging in the street. There’s something limiting about the sidewalk, and it can be bumpy because of tree roots that get under there.

I often hit the street in my neighborhood where cars are few and far between, and when there is a car, I can hop up on that sidewalk and keep my amazing pace.

And, because my work brings me all over town, I see a guy jogging on Fontaine Road, near the Chevy Chase end (in that, what, 5 millimeter jogging lane?), cars swooshing by.

There’s another guy whose loop brings him into the street in the old part of Chinoe Road. And I think: “Really, with that sidewalk right there?” He’s intently into the jog, too; looks like The Marathon Man.

I once yelled to him: “Sidewalk!” He had the strength only to wave with one finger, but I think he got what I was trying to say. Another time, I yelled, in a jovial sort of way, “Nice knowin’ ya!” He waved again.

Seems like a nice guy.

This story was originally published March 31, 2016 at 7:26 PM with the headline "No place to run."