Run Lost

I went running after work. Dropped my stuff off, went outside, walked through the parking lot, and started running. In unfamiliar environs, one of my primary rules from now on has to be to only follow streets, and to not deviate onto trails unless I am sure I can find my way back. Yeah, K.T. got his ass lost.

This, despite purchasing a GPS yesterday. Problem is that it was designed for cars, not for running. I'm awful glad that I didn't carry it with me. It doesn't cradle well in the hand, and I have no pockets in my shorts. All I can take, realistically, is the keys. From now on, I must also find a way to take water.

After a few minutes of running down main streets, I find a trail, and decide to give that a go. One thing leads to another, and I see a sign for a four mile run. A bit more than I'd planned, but it's probably a loop, right? This I follow, all the bikes passing me in both directions. Finally, I come out of the woods and onto a main street, one I've never seen before.

Now, this would be the perfect time to turn back, but this is not the K.T. option. I pick "left" and go. And go, and go, and go. At one point, I have to stop in 7-11, and find a clerk that has no grasp of English or directions. She tells me what I finally discover is the proper way to run, but pointed me in the exact opposite direction. I run perhaps half a mile down the street, then find several police officers waiting outside a motel.

I ask two for directions, and one tells me I won't be running to my destination. The other tells me the information I need. I'd like to use this opportunity to have proven the first officer wrong. He said I wouldn't be running two miles. Not only did I run two miles, I probably ran more because I got lost several more times.

Did I mention I started running near sunset?

Somehow I found my way to an armed forces recruitment center, and the lights were all on. Now, I'm what you would call a wartime pacifist, in that I believe in violence until it's my ass on the line. Still, Directions are directions. In I go asking for directions, and they're amazed at just how far/how lost I am. One man, with a particularly deep voice, asks if I'm trying to get any smaller. Another asks me what school I go to, and I realize he thinks I must be around 20. I tell him I've graduated for a while.

Later, after giving some convoluted directions, he asks what school I graduated from, and I loathingly admit UMDLaw. He sits back a little and asks if I'm a lawyer. I give him the auto-spiel, that I'm barred to practice law in Maryland, but am not currently doing so. This impresses him enough to try to recruit me, this kid who is a lawyer and has run three miles or so and gotten lost. Me, I'm not one to spit in the face of someone that's just given me directions, so I listen to a bit of his spiel, then give the phone number for a call back tomorrow. Hey, options are good, and I just got recruited for the army.

On my way back, I had to stop someone to confirm I was going in the right direction. She spoke in an accent I can't place, some British, maybe Australian accent? She also had some of the most jagged teeth I've ever seen in a person, but not shaved down. More organic, like stalactites (ceiling) and stalagmites (ground). Apparently, I scare people when running, because she wouldn't really look me in the eyes, or even look at me. Well, either that or she was shy about talking to strangers, which is entirely possible, as she said she'd just moved there.

Another twenty minutes, bringing my total up to an hour, and I find my way home, stumbling the rest of the way. There's a car parked in front of the door, so I walk around and go to another door, constantly checking reflective surfaces to see if that guy's following.

No doubt, I need to get lost more and see what else happens.