Just a quick story:
I was out for an 8-miler tonight. I’d waited all afternoon for a rainy storm front to pass through. It was after dark and there was a steady wind blowing in from the West. So, when I saw a little brown object fluttering across the sidewalk in front of me, I thought it was just a wad of trash or a small plastic bag being blown by the breeze.
Then I got closer and saw it had legs. It was a mouse! He (she?) was cutting across the sidewalk in front of me after retrieving some prize near the curb. I got pretty close to him before he realized I was coming. He instinctively tried to reverse course and escape, but he was already on the inside of the walk and I was practically on top of him.
In his panic he gave up on getting to whatever hole in the wall he was accustomed to, and now he was just running. But the brick wall he was next to must not have had any other portals in it, so he just kept running.
There we were, trotting along, more or less, right along side each other, me wondering how far he’s actually going to stay with me, and him wondering (surely) when the hell the horrible nightmare was going to just-please-god be over.
And then, I don’t know, either the terror overwhelmed him, or – and I really prefer to think of it this way – maybe the sheer exhilaration of the adrenaline rush charged him beyond expectation, because he let out this little, prolonged, mousy-roar-like, squeeeeeeek!
I really do like the idea that it was the mouse equivalent to a YeeehHaaaa! Think of a two inch tall, four-legged, tailed and furry Usain Bolt crossing the finish line after 100 meters in Beijing, but with a cross-species twist. It’s like this mouse invented his own Rodent X-Games. Just think: one day, I’ll be able to say “I was there,” and “I knew him when…”
Now, of course, he and I will be looking for each other out there on Foster Ave. They say running with a partner can really go a long way toward improving your own performance. Ah, the camaraderie.