True Story :: A Toe-Striker Runs into Birds


I’m happy to report that I’m still able to run fast and long.  

This afternoon I slipped on the New Balance and put tread to a mix of concrete and asphalt for about 3 miles.

The knees were grateful for the interval of asphalt.  My ankles snapped up to my thighs, my toes flickered along the surface, and gravity pushed me down as momentum carried me forward.

When I wanted to accelerate, I snapped my ankles up to my thighs more vigorously.  I didn’t try to cover more ground with each step; that’s inefficient, that is the wrong way to think of running when you have my body type.  

Let gravity work for you, I thought, don’t fight the almighty g.  Instead, concentrate on turnover, on rpms.  The more frequently I snap my ankles up to my thighs, I thought, the more ground I’ll cover and the more energy I’ll conserve.

With model form in mind, I ran forward.  In the distance, I saw a bird tracing shallow arcs in the sky.  Just another bird.  

I didn’t think anything of it, that is, until I invaded its nesting territory and became the target of swooping bomb dives.  Twice I felt the bird shave my hair, and then a second bird joined in on the air-to-ground attacks.

How serious were these crazy birds?  If I hadn’t started bobbing and weaving, ducking and jumping, would I have lived to tell the tale?

May 1, 2009 8:00 am

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