One is Silver and the Other Gold...

Since I have started running I have lived in three different apartments. The first apartment was on Maple Avenue, right next to the Katy Trail. Each and every day I climb up a dirt embankment about a block from my building and proceeded to jostle my way up and down the same path. After a while, you realize that, basically, you see the same people over and over again. I don't know any of their names. I wouldn't feel comfortable approaching them in public. They are not my friends.

The second apartment was Arts District adjacent. Offering a quick walk to work and a variety of running paths to choose from. Sure, sometimes I would jog down the hill to the base of the Katy Trail...it's comfortable, what can I say, but usually I would simply jog up and down McKinney Avenue. McKinney had its perks. It's well lit. There's a lot to see. Unfortunately the smells wafting from the bars and bushes adjacent to said bars were not always pleasant (seriously...Aura...get a hold of your customers). I felt very "Uptown". If I saw anyone, both of us made every effort to ignore one another. That's just the way we Uptowners do it. Even when I used to run around the Texas Repulic Bank Building (one loop is a quarter of a mile...just FYI), the security guards would politely look away each time I passed their window.

My third and current apartment has proven decidedly different when it comes to meeting people during my running adventures. There are some fun horn honks and cat calls as I gulump my way through my neighborhood. These typically happen at night. I feel this is the case for several reasons: (i) it's dark so the drivers/cat callers can't actually see me...and my girth, and (ii) it's the end of the day, so my fans have had more time to build up their courage/blood alcohol level.

My runs take me out of the security fence surrounding my quaint 1950's condo development, past the Section 8 housing that sits across the street, down to Cedar Springs, through Perry Heights, around Craddock Park, in front of Whole Foods Market, into Highland Park (by way of Lomo Alto), up to Versailles, over to Preston or Throckmorton, and back down to Cedar Springs. The Highland Parkers are very similar to the Uptowners, except more vocal about my need to share the sidewalk...seriously. Well, okay, just once and I think she was having a bad day...I hope she was...because I certainly did after our brief encounter.

This morning, however, I finally made contact. A real, random, running buddy.

As I was passing the free clinic on Cedar Springs, a spry forty year old African American man named Eric sprung off the wooden bench on which he had seated himself to join me for the rest of my run. We really connected. I think because we have so much in common.

Eric just celebrated his big b-day with his recently reunited brother. It was hard for the brothers to keep in contact for a few reasons. First, because Eric has until recently lived out of town. Second, because Eric has until recently been in prison.

Not to worry though, Eric has excellent social skills and would be a fine addition to any gathering. He inquired as to my occupation...to which I said "I work at a law firm" (people, do not ever tell a stranger you are an attorney...just trust me...I was tempted to tell him I work "in an office", I was risking it with "law firm"). Not wanting to be rude, I return the queary and was told "Oh, I cash my disability check. I've got the bipolar disorder."

He apparently is not one to dwell (an admirable quality in a new friend), since we quickly moved on to why I was running and where, exactly, I was running to. I told him I was running the NYC marathon in 3 weeks. He asked if he could come. I told him yes, but he would have to find his own ticket. We discussed the length of the marathon and the length of my morning training run (which was almost at an end at this point...lasting a little over 5 miles and taking right at an hour). To which he responded that I was "pretty fast for a guy who is so thick." At this point we had run about half a mile together. He needed to stop and stretch for a bit, which I declined, but wished him well in all his endeavors.

I looked for him on facebook, but nothing... Wishing you well, Eric from the free clinic. If you make it to New York, be sure and flag me down.

Timmy