There's a young lady that I see every morning between 8.15 and 8.30 running along my path to work. She comes out of the crowd on the pavement, huffing, slapping her feet down, hunched over, puffing. She's got good shoes and fine adidas runwear. Though she's plugged into her iPod' she seems very in the moment. She has a scrunched up look of determination and pain on her face as she weaves her way around the crowds. This scene has repeated itself over the weeks.
Of late, or almost immediately, I want to grab her and stop her and explain to her everything she is doing wrong. From here foot strikes to her leaning forward to her unnecessary gait. I know I should just leave here be. But she seems so earnest.
I wish my running group were coming along better, so I could just flag her down like an idiot and give her a flyer. I think she would be the perfect person for some group training. In English or Spanish, she could only get better. At the very least, it would get her off the pavement. She needs to take that enthusiasm out to the park and the dirty trails. Concrete will burn her out and kill that spirit I see in the morning.
Well, thanks for listening, it was something that's been on my mind for a few weeks. I doubt she's ruining herself and I'm just overreacting. Best of luck to her. She's the kind of long term runner that gives me hope for Spain.
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