Morning Run in the Neighborhood

My summers off allow me to run in the morning when everything seems nicer and fresher. I usually jog the same route through the same streets, and I encounter some of the same people along the way.  I wave and smile at the older gentleman who hollers “nice pace, maam!” as I pass by.  I sometimes stop and pet two of my favorite neighborhood cats, the portly, demanding tuxedo named Lady H and the blue-eyed, equally demanding cat that I call Alice.  Dog walkers nod or say hi as our paths cross, but I’m sad to say that a lot of people don’t acknowledge my presence.  That’s okay, because I like to think that I’m invisible when I run.  Except to cars-that’s why I wear a neon-orange shirt!  This morning I greeted one of my favorite fellow morning exercisers, the petite lady who wears long pants, a turtleneck, a wool jacket, a hat, and hot-pink gloves.  Everyday.  Today is August 2, and the temperature was probably 61-62 degrees when we were out.  Granted, I’m wearing long sleeves for protection against the sun but not the cold.  However, I understand her attire.  I was chilled for the first five years that I lived here.  Moving from Houston, I thought any temperature under 75º was cold.  While other people were wearing shorts and sandals, I wore sweatshirts and Uggs.  Gradually, I warmed up.  Maybe she will too, but I would miss her hot-pink gloves.