Jogging my memory

I have two favorite kinds of joggers. I know it’s weird to have favorite types of joggers but I spend a lot of time in my car and I’ve become a connoisseur of people on the side of the road (don’t even get me started on people at the bus-stop). And in the morning, there are joggers. This morning I spotted one of my favorite types.

This type of jogger is the “I just woke up and decided I needed to start jogging right this second!” jogger. These joggers are very popular in the New Year. They flourish in January and tend to be hibernating and watching E! again by February. They also appear at the gym for a brief time. I like them because, unlike people who decide they’re going to get really into something and go out and buy ridiculous shoes and warm-up suits and heart monitors and do some research on running, these folks are out there in jeans and a t-shirt, huffing and puffing in the arch-murdering shoes they walk in everyday. It looks like they’ve come running out of a burning building and then decided to just take it up as a hobby. Also I like them because they have no concept of pacing themselves. They’re going to jog 5 miles on their first day. From completely sedate to running a marathon in the time it takes to get dressed. I think it’s this hardcore approach to jogging/running that explains why their lifespan as a jogger is so short. It’s like watching a star burn out: bright then gone. Poof.

The other favorite jogger I have is the paranoid jogger. The paranoid jogger looks like they’re also running out of a burning building but act like the person who set the fire may be behind them. They’re hot on their trail (pardon the pun). This is what I think their story is: the paranoid jogger always knew that a day would come where they would be involved in a foot race for their life and they’ve trained for that day. They’ve been preparing for a footrace for survival for years. But they’re not so confident as to stop looking backward and in every direction to make sure they’ve got a handy lead. Lot of nervous glances over the shoulder. Or maybe they’re stretching their necks alot. I dunno. It looks like nervous looks, though. But one thing is for sure, the people who are chasing them do not know what they’re in for: a long, boring, exhaust sucking stroll down Cobb Parkway. Also, the paranoid joggers check their watch a lot. It might be one of those things that counts your footsteps, but I prefer to think of them as racing against time because that’s what someone in a movie would do. Not enough movies about people running to stay alive.

For the record, I hate running/jogging. I’ll do an elliptical machine twice a week and that’s only because I can read while I do it. I experience no “runner’s high” or endorphins or anything else ‘running addicts’ speak of. What I do experience is occupying myself with some task (reading trashy books or watching trashy TV) while I do something else (movement) that I don’t pay attention to. Is it satisfying? Not really, but it does give me just enough audacity to make fun of people jogging on the side of the road, and that’s what really matters to me.