At least I was nice... (Read 1061 times)

It has been so long since anyone has stopped me during a run to ask for directions. Until tonight, I always thought it wouldn't bother me. I was at mile 6 of 11, and not feeling particularly frisky, when a car stopped suddenly and I heard the dreaded "EXCUSE ME!" I kept running for a few steps, very annoyed, but stopped and walked (slowly, cuz I'm annoyed, remember) back to the car. They asked for directions, and despite being peeved, I politely told them what they needed to know. The driver actually argued with my directions, saying there weren't any signs. Resisting the urge to tell him I have lived in this town for 40 years, I insisted I was not leading him astray. I was stopped for less than a minute, but completely taken out of the 'zone' and could not find my rhythm again. I ended up turning for home early and calling it a night around 8 miles. While I gave no outward signs of my grumpiness, I was surprised at how much it bothered me. I know that it's not fair to expect non-runners to 'get it' but do you really have to be a runner to know that stopping a runner is disruptive? I'm less bothered by the actual interruption as I am by how presumptuous and oblivious people can be. I'm an old slow guy, not training for anything in particular, but clearly not out walking the dog either. Makes me wonder in what areas of life am I presumptuous and oblivious.

I'm with you guys...it always seems like drivers find the worst times to be lost...when I'm in my little reverie and not feeling particularly social. Or I'm having a really bad run and am trying to ignore the discomfort and want nothing more than to get home as soon as possible. Often stopping for even 30 seconds will give my muscles the cue to lock-up, too. The last time I was stopped was a couple of weeks ago a few miles from the end of a miserable long run and this is exactly what happened. I was pretty annoyed by the interruption at this point. I wonder if I could pretend to not understand/speak English... Were I a lost driver it would take a lot for me to bother any person intently involved in any activity, whether it be running, or reading a book, or playing a game of chess. Then again, I'm a pretty good map reader and make a habit of printing maps and written directions whenever I go somewhere unfamiliar. I can't remember the last time I was lost.

I've been stopped several times by people asking for directions. It never bothers me. That's probably because I am a really slow, really old guy. I usually run LSD runs. If I was doing speed work, I probaby would not stop. I'm just glad I know something someone else wants to know. On the other hand, if they argued with my directions, I'd get ticked. So far, no one did this to me.

I haven't had anyone ask me for directions yet but I have had people ask me the time which can be a dilemma. How do you explain to someone that the expensive GPS HRM watch on your wrist can't tell you the time at the moment? All the while running past them not wanting to stop and switch to watch mode. The easy answer would just to honestly say I have no idea what the time is but the polite side of me just usually estimates the time based on when I left the house. Of course I could just make up a time. How would they know?

It has been so long since anyone has stopped me during a run to ask for directions. Until tonight, I always thought it wouldn't bother me. I was at mile 6 of 11, and not feeling particularly frisky, when a car stopped suddenly and I heard the dreaded "EXCUSE ME!"

This is actually a legitimately good reason to wear an iPod. You can just ignore them. It's happened to me more than once, including a recent time that almost got ugly. Story time: A couple months back, I went to pick up my lady at work. I happened to be in running clothes, and she wasn't ready to go. I even had my Garmin with me. And she works in a nice spot for running. So I told her I was going to go run a quick 3 or so and be back in a little bit. The important thing to remember is that I don't know the area well - so asking me for directions is kinda pointless. Also, I was without the iPod, so pretending not to hear wouldn't work quite as well. Also, I had a race coming up and turned this run into a tempo run. I was doing 7:00-7:15 pace, which may look like a jog, but in my world is pretty quick. Dork in car slows and rolls his window down. I ignore him, knowing what's coming ... mainly because the dummy was going the opposite direction. If somebody pulls up beside me and wants to interrogate me going the same direction, sure I'll chat. Or would, if I was running an easy run. But I'm really huffing and puffing at the point, trying to hit a specific pace on the Garmin. And this asshat expects me to actually go backwards? Yeah. So as he goes by in the opposite direction, he yells out his window: "Hey, do know where X is ?" Being a polite sorta chap, I don't completely ignore him. I sorta shrug in mid-step and yell: "No idea" over my shoulder. And continue on my run. And here's where it gets fun. The asshat actually turns his car around to follow me. Like maybe if he asks me a few more times I'll spill the beans. Like I'm keeping a secret from him, and a little more determination on his part will get it out of me. This area is a commercial area, too. Tons of businesses. I have no idea why he wouldn't think to pull into a store and ask them. I guess people just (stupidly) assume that if you're on foot, you must know the area. Which is exactly the assumption the asshat was going on. So he follows me in his car, and when we hit an intersection, he yells again: "You really don't know where X is?" This time I just give him a look, shake my head at his idiocy, and run harder. He pulls ahead and stops at the light ... and then he starts really getting upset, like I'm fiendishly keeping top secret information from him, just to taunt him. He yells: "You mean you run here in this area and you don't even know where X is?" His voice is dripping with incredulity at this point. Now asshat has become sarcastic asshat. I consider stopping, sticking my head in his window, and explaining to him why I don't know the answer to his question, and why he should stop asking, and why in the future he might consider not harassing runners. But this would, of course, require stopping my run. And its one of those good runs. I'm into it. So no, I'm not stopping. As I turn left at the intersection, I manage to blurt out: "No, I don't have a clue." Which I don't. Now I'm running away from him. He's stuck at the light, and turning the opposite way. And then he decides to scream - he's hysterical now - "Well, you don't have to @$% be so @#$% rude about it." For the record, I wasn't rude. I may sound rude in the retelling, since it makes me grumpy. But at the time, I was perfectly friendly. Just sorta in a hurry and out of breath. But now I get rude. Continuing my perfect pace, I flip one hand up with military precision and offer him a beautiful one-fingered salute. I hold it for a good 10 seconds, to make sure he's seen its simple beauty. Asshat loses his mind. I'm probably 50 yards away at this point, but the stream of creative obscenity that he belches out still reaches me just fine. This guy is spitting mad, losing his mind. So now I stop. Press the little button. Turn around And just look at the guy. I'm halfway between shock at the depth of his stupidity and laughing at just how angry he's gotten because he can't find the freaking YMCA. (That's what he was looking for, if it matters). Unsurprisingly, he decides not to chat further, and turns right as he rolls up his window, tires squealing, dust spewing everywhere. (And, ironically as I later learned, going the wrong way if he was headed to the YMCA). No big deal, kind of amusing ... but as TommyMac put it, now I'm totally out of the zone. The rest of the run was kind of ruined. Because asshats think runners are moving road maps. ------------------ What's the moral? I think the moral has two parts: 1) People are stupid, and 2) Because runners are in a unique position of spending time traveling on-foot in a world of automobiles (and cursed bikers), we get to deal with even more stupid people than is really our fair share.

While I gave no outward signs of my grumpiness, I was surprised at how much it bothered me. I know that it's not fair to expect non-runners to 'get it' but do you really have to be a runner to know that stopping a runner is disruptive?

You'd think that'd be an obvious answer, wouldn't you?

I'm not usually bothered by people asking for directions, because up here, 9 times out of 10, if somebody is asking for directions then they are a tourist, which means they are bringing money into the state. That, and in Maine directions are fun. Up the road a piece could be anywhere from 5 to 10 minutes or 5 to 10 hours. Turn left where X used to be could be obvious, or could refer to something that closed 10 years ago and has been rebuilt twice with no clues that it used to be there. Can't get there from here - I've never actually used this one, its just too corny. Normally, I give relatively good directions because I know the area really well (I do run quite a bit.) The strangest request for directions that I ever had though came about a week after I moved to Maine back in 2002, when some kid asked me where a specific shop was (I didn't know and told him so.) I think that the request for directions was just a reason to stop, though. He followed up the request for directions with a request to give me head. I politely declined and continued my run.

The only people that ever ask me are tourists and I like to direct them onto routes whose level of difficultly would make an Olympic gymnast squirm. Does that make me an asshat? Almost certainly. My hope is that while they are struggling to find their way they can't copulate and I'm giving natural selection a helping hand. Then again, I might be part of the reason that traffic in DC is so bad...something to think about...

The last time I was stopped on a run was when a couple asked me to be their wedding photographer. They had just married themselves (no witnesses, no bridesmaid or best man, nothing), which is legal in Colorado, and flagged me down as I was one of the few other people out on the Creek Path that rainy day. I was happy to snap a few photos for them.