Just when running is starting to get easier again and my lungs aren’t dying and my legs/back aren’t screaming, some bloke decides it would be a good idea to chase me.
It’s as if someone doesn’t want me running. Hmmm. Maybe there is? Something I love, something I can do well (when fit) and have a place to live Godly.
And then some jerk decides it would be funny to scare the bijeezers out of me by chasing me down a path and to the road and then catches me (that was discouraging, but I had just burned through 3 miles and was tired) and when he was right next to me I shoved him and punched his shoulder and then ran like the wind. Thankfully he did not follow me. Probably one of his mates said ‘bet you can’t catch that girl’ and so he tried.
I sprinted wa-ay further than I should have, considering my healing body and am aching very badly today. Got home, shook for a bit and had a little cry, then A phoned the police. They told me ‘good work’ when I said I hit him. That was nice of them. Probably I should have screamed but I was too concerned about getting away quickly.
It was not a nice experience!