Running past Running mouths

Weekdays from 7-7, I have little connection with human beings. Since I'm anti-social at Temple and have obligations to fulfill in the breaks between classes, my brief moments of "contact" with the outside world are when I'm sprinting around the streets of Fairmount.

I should preface what I'm about to say (probably unecessarily) by mentioning that I hate the idea of working out with someone else. There's 3 different workout "looks" that I have when in the midst of a grueling regime.
1) Psychologically disturbed serial killer.
2) Mel Gibson in the Patriot when he found out what the British had done to his Fam.
3) Man trying to audition for a "no pain, no gain"-themed gatorade commercial.

These looks serve a much higher purpose than merely flattering me. They draw attention from people I pass on my journey, which on occasion leads to some form of comment directed at me. Today I got 2, neither of which was a sarcastic "Ruuun Forrest, ruuuun" which I have no joke received at least 3 times in my running career. People's creativity never ceases to amaze me.

Today's comments?
"Dat N*gga Truckin" - I'm not gonna lie, this one kind of made me feel good. I was indeed truckin, and it was to get some reinforcement that my desire was visible...at least that's how I took it.

"You should start...uuuuh, stop, running before you get a heart attack" - This one made little sense to me, but I politely told him I wasn't getting a heart attack for at least another decade. Unless Thunderbird gets 25cent wing nights going again. If that happens, all bets are off that I live past 28.

I will conclude this blog with a picture of Homer Simpson running, because, well, I really don't feel like coming up with anything more creative at the moment. Homer's money, and I'm sure that I resemble him in some ways when I am trekking through the hood...