Before the Geezer Ran out of Gas . . .

Don't let the title fool you.  He was one gas-guzzling geezer.  But don't let me get ahead of myself.  Just because I like that word and haven't said it in YEEEEAARS.  Geezer.  Geezer-geezer.

A few weeks ago I was dying to go running.  It's a good kind of addiction, running is.  It had been several days since my last run, so I found a place here to go on my first outdoor run in Virginia Beach: Mount Trashmore.  I'm not kidding; it is a real place.  And a real pile of trash.  More like a mountain, thus the "Mt." part.  It is covered with grass and things and has a nice little lake-ish area with ducks and seagulls and a jogging trail.  (But "don't eat the fish from the lake," my dad reminds me.)  So I decided to test out the trail.

I pulled up to the parking lot and parked right by the trail in the old van, Miss Nancy.  (She makes a great companion for stretching.)  Just past my parking stall pulled up an old man who looked ready to run, too.  Not one for social exercise with strangers, I started on my way so I wouldn't have to talk to him.  (Terrible, I know!)  

Just as I broke into a run, the old guy went ZOOMING past me.  Now I know that certain ways of life age people so that they look older than they really are, but this guy looked like he was in his LATE SEVENTIES.  My grandpa Van seems MUCH younger than him and he is 75, I think.  So when Mr. Wrinkly cruised past me, I was like, "What the?"  And then I saw his RIPPED legs and army t-shirt and thought, "He must be like some kind of retired military officer or something."  And he was faster than me.

But I enjoyed my run; breathing in the honeysuckle on the South side of the park and the smelly trash-smell on the East.  It wasn't too bad if I tried to breathe just through my mouth.  And the sun was shining through the thick, humid air, which made it really nice.  I love a good, sweaty run.  I decided to take the short loop since it was my first time back running in a week.

But wait.  Who was that coming near the fork in the trail from the LONG route?  Was it the GEEZER GUY?  Are you kidding me??  Was he about to pass me AGAIN??  I seriously started sprinting the minute I saw him (fight or flight, baby), and the minute I stopped at the van, he went sprinting past, just a hair behind me.  

And THAT is how I won the impromptu race at Mt. Trashmore before the geezer ran out of gas.