Posing

Today I posed as a runner. I used to actually be a runner, but it's been 8 years or so since then and I've almost completely transformed into a cyclist. I say "almost" because I only own two mountain bikes, a cyclocross bike, and a town cruiser; no road bike and no touring bike. That and I still sometimes wear a Camelback while riding my cyclocross bike on road rides.

But I digress. Today, I left my hotel wearing a running skirt and tank top, brand new Brooks running shoes, and my iPhone strapped to my arm so I could simultaneously track my progress on Strava and listen to music (Bruce Springsteen, The Black Keys, The Gaslight Anthem, and some Gin Wigmore). I trotted down the Guadalupe River Trail past the airport and toward downtown San Jose, looking for all the world like a runner. So much so that I got the knowing smiles, the nods, and the waves from the other runners.

Inside, I felt like a poser. Not really a runner, just pretending to be one for the moment and wondering if anyone would be able to tell. To make it seem more real, I decided to throw in some intervals, sprinting up the short hills and between signposts with slower recovery jogs in between. This effort netted me several personal records according to Strava, at distances from 1/4 mile to 5k.

I was actually starting to feel like a runner! When the occasional cyclist passed, I tried to make eye contact and give the knowing nod that I'm accustomed to--but they didn't recognize me as a cyclist. They thought I was a runner!

At the 3-mile mark, I turned around. My pick-ups were becoming less frequent and intense as my breath was labored and my arms sagged from yesterday's push-up session. The heat was more than my Mayvember-in-Oregon-acclimatized body was used to. When Strava said 6.1 miles, I stopped running and walked the rest of the way back to the hotel. The charade was up. I'm not a runner!