Look both ways

Last night on the way home from work, I nearly struck a pedestrian. Shortly after turning onto 16th St. from Georgia Ave., I noticed a woman jogging on the right sidewalk. I was in the left lane and had a green light, so I thought nothing of this and continued driving. The next thing I knew, there was a gray sweatshirt in front of my car and I was slamming on the brakes and blindly swerving into the lane next to me. After nearly causing an accident, this hooded women had the audacity to glare at me. Had my window been open, I would've screamed something rude.

Feeling shaken up about this when I got home, I decided to go running myself (in a gray shirt, no less). I've actually been jogging a lot lately, since we've had such nice weather this fall. Growing up, I always thought I hated jogging. Sprinting over short distances to beat my cousins at races was one thing, but sustained exertion was always quite another. But these past couple months, I've discovered that I like it a lot more than I ever thought I could.

For one thing, it's nice to know that I'm getting some exercise. It's probably been about a decade since I last had any sort of regular physical exertion in my life. Combined with my love of food, I know how unhealthy that lifestyle is. Long term health benefits aside, exercise also just makes me feel good. Part of this might be endorphins, but I think a lot of it is mental too.

Another aspect of running that I've come to appreciate is the rhythm. Building a jog into my daily schedule provides another familiar wrinkle to my routine, even if I don't choose to run every evening. Beyond that, the physical act of jogging - feet pounding on the sidewalk, heavy breathing - is soothing. I often find myself turning this sounds into a pattern in my mind, repeating the same couple bars of a song that's stuck in my head. All of this is very conducive to uninterrupted thinking, much like driving with the radio off.

What might appeal to me most about running, though, is the sense of exploration associated with it. Maggie and I used to talk about how envious we were of our friend Tom for being able to just trot around for miles and see new places at will. Even though I barely jog for more than a mile, and almost always take the same route through the neighborhood, I've started to feel hints of this. Running after work, I'm occasionally treated to the savory scent of dinner wafting from the windows of houses. As I pass people and trees and schools on the sidewalk, my mind is constantly stimulated: "That's a friendly looking dog." "I'd hate to have to mow that lawn." "Those leaves are a really nice color." Jogging is freeing.

As the weather gets colder, I'm not sure if I can keep up the habit. I'd certainly like to, and if I can manage to jog semi-regularly over the winter, I've promised myself new running sneakers next spring. I'm having fun doing something healthy. And, despite my gray tshirt in the dusk, I am always careful not to dart out in front of oncoming traffic.