There were some woods behind my neighborhood, with a thin trail developed enough so I could keep up my pace without worrying about twisting my ankle. It felt weird starting up a new routine. Disconcerting. At first, I experimented with the timing of my run to avoid seeing too many people, and it made my workouts seem less about the running itself and more about the path I took. The key was to leave my house at four thirty, well before rush hour, to avoid the strings of cars and after-work dog walkers. Evening patterns weren’t as predictable as mornings, though, and it kind of drove me crazy. Then, one day I bumped into Darren. I had just entered the woods and was so focused on the ground that he was almost past me before I heard him shout my name. I could tell he was near the end of his loop because he had that slump-shouldered gassed look, but he slowed to a walk when I raised my hand at him. Usually when I pass people I know while I’m in the middle of a workout, I’m a nod-and-wave person.
