Last week's attempt at running eight miles didn't turn out so well, but I did learn a very important lesson.
Eating a bowl of wonton soup and then trying to run any distance at all ain't a very good combination.
So, today, I tried again and I actually made 8 1/2 miles before I was finally able to stagger back to my car. It was very, very hard and I certainly didn't set any speed records ... but I did it. That's all well and good, but that's not the point of this post.
A funny thing happened as I neared my own personal finish line. Almost back within sight of my car parked at the hospital in town, an older gentleman actually stopped his truck on the side of the road and started running with me. It was honest to goodness like that scene from one of the greatest movies of all time, Forrest Gump, where everybody joins in on Forrest's long-distance journey.
I saw you runnin', and thought I might join you for a spell ...
Thing is, he was telling me to take it easy and not overdo it, so I must've looked a fright, like I was about to keel over or something. Come to think of it, that probably wasn't far from the truth. He told me to take it easy, then got a little winded, turned around and headed back to his truck.
And that was that.