I’m kind of at a loss for what to do with this here blog. I don’t update even monthly, and when I want to, I’m not sure what to say. It’s all either too personal for an audience of this size or too boring for anyone but me. That said, a funny thing did happen last night, so I guess I’ll tell you about that.
First off, I’ve joined Weight Watchers, and that’s been pretty awesome. Since September 5th, I’ve lost 20 pounds, which is kind of incredible, but I actually have a lot of weight to lose. Apparently spending all my time in class or organizing and eating nothing but campus market food was not super great for my figure. Anyway, in this ongoing effort toward a weight that doesn’t quite make me feel like bursting into tears every time I step on the scale, I’ve been changing my diet and trying to be more active. Last night, I had this wild idea that I would go out walking even though it was raining, but I stalled and stalled waiting for it to let up until finally, at 8, I figured it was a light enough drizzle for a short walk.
It wasn’t really, but more importantly, it was pitch dark, and the neighborhood I chose to walk in—while nice and full of cute houses with progressive political signs in the yards and nice friendly people inside the houses—is very poorly lit. Oh whatever, I told myself, you are tough and totally bad ass, as I sloshed through puddles along my two-mile post-prandial constitutional. At the halfway point, however, I felt the presence of someone behind me. When I looked over my shoulder, I saw a man in a yellow rain slicker with a hood over his face walking behind me, matching my brisk pace.
Rather than reminding myself that lots of people take walks at night, and that it is totally reasonable to wear a yellow slicker when you’re outside at night and it’s raining, my brain immediately went to I Know What You Did Last Summer. I was convinced that if I looked behind me again I’d see that he had a hook for a hand.
The fact that it’s nearly Halloween and all the houses are appropriately dressed in spooky decorations didn’t help calm me down.
My pace quickened until I was jogging fast and leaping over puddles. Finally I ducked down a more well-lit street I hadn’t planned to take to get back home faster and hopefully throw him off my trail. I fumbled with my iPhone, wondering who exactly you call when a fisherman with a vendetta and a hook for a hand is following you through a poorly lit neighborhood, intent on taking your life. I looked behind me again and he was gone, and I slowed down with a sigh of relief. However, apparently he had turned down another street a few blocks before I had, probably to avoid looking like a creepy serial killer, since I had obviously started running in fear when I saw I wasn’t alone. Eventually our paths crossed again, and I almost pissed myself. However, before I could let out the blood-curdling scream for help I was planning to issue should he appear behind me again, I saw him greet some people in front of their driveway, and as he pulled off his hood I saw that he was basically the cutest widdle old man ever who probably couldn’t hurt a fly, let alone lil’ ol’ me.
Once I got home, I realized having a serial killer behind me for a good half a mile turns out to be like having a really motivational pace coach. I’m fairly certain for a couple blocks I was doing a 7 minute mile. I think, rather than shilling out for a personal trainer, I should just hire dangerous criminals to walk behind me in hooded rain slickers. I’ll be winning a 5K in no time.
