James - 2

+ English Luke and Kat!

Hi all,

Sorry I've been silent for so many months. It's been a very busy time for me, with family visiting, getting buried by my continuing degree, and now friends visiting. My excellent friends Luke G and Kat have come to see us for 2 weeks (Luke V and Luke G have met, on a running and drinking basis). And goddamn it we got a run in in June in Florida. And it was FUCKED!

It went very well and all, but excitement isn't quite the word. We decided to run on the trail towards my college, so they could see what my usual commute is like. It's gone 7:30pm, but still hot. We are stretching and can see a line of orange somewhere in the distance, and I comment that I hope it's not some kind of construction blocking our way. We also muse that it might be a line of runners, though they don't appear to be moving. I suggest running the other direction, but Luke rightly points out that if they catch and pass us, that is going to be embarrassing. So we begin.

As we get closer, a few of the apparently orange people go past us and we see that there are about 100 more waiting to follow them (the path is not wide and surrounded by ravines on either side). "Shit! I know a diversion, we just have to backtrack a little to get to it." For some reason this does not appeal to my tough English associates, and we go along the edge of the trail, trying to eak out a single file somewhere between the dirty bumps, trying to avoid becoming badly injured fruitfly joggers in a healthcare shit sandwich. The first wave of 50 passes and we realise these might be military types, out chanting and running and being relatively fucking American. As the next lot head towards us, the terrain to get by them is even more perilous, so I shout for us to make a hard turn and run down the side of some homes towards a parallel street. We cut around and back up to the trail.

After we hit our stopping point and turn around, they look like they've done the same thing! These bastards seem determined to stomp us, if not under their boots, then under a climate of fear and with flagrant disregard for the rule of leaving most of the trail clear for cyclists. So going back we spend even more time on the parallel streets, sweating and staggering and frothing with confusion about what the hell's going on. We did not run this distance without stopping for a few walking moments, but we all felt it was a job well done.

One final story. When I told Luke to turn left and cross a street that cuts the trail, it was not a safe time to do so, car-wise. Luke V may remember I did this exact same thing to him when he was in England (and we were very close to Luke G's house, as it happens). Maybe I am so left wing that I don't know how to do a left turn.