Johnny Thunder
05-11-2007, 09:43
Somewhere West of Rittenhouse Towne I caught their trail.
Them: jogging shorts with reflector strips. Two-toned sneaky thingers with tire-tread-traction. Ankle socks. 5k (badge of courage) complimentary fun-run T shirts.
Me: half-buzzed from a happy hour. Re-worn Murda'City Sports club shirt. Gerber knife. Petzel Lamp. General hint of malaise. Indifference. Confusion.
West of Rittenhouse Towne I found an unusual blazing arrow sprayed into a turn in the path. Flouresent Green. As I stared, perplexed and bemused, the sound of a pack broke the usual road-noise-horse-tour-disc-bike-brake-clatter. Something was chasing something.
Soon enough I was chasing them. Them: 15-odd running enthusiasts, obviously prepared for the jaunt. Me: head to toe cotton and sucking wind.
We tread the dirt about the Blue Stone bridge. A half-mile later shot the gap under Walnut Lane. Paused to reflect that this was the highest non-suspension bridge of it's kind. They just don't build 'em like they used to. I put my head down and we breezed by the Toleration statue. Learned where the first baptismal pool in Philly is.
"What are we running for?" I asked.
No answer
"Where are we going?"
Nothing
We gained momentum and sprinted past the Kitchen Lane bridge. The pack sailed around the turns under blooming shrubbery. Mountain bikers stopped and waited for us.
Ok, so I blacked out. You know when you push yourself so hard your hands shake? Or when all you can hear is the sound of your heart beating and your feet falling? My breathing gained a dangerous cadence.
I left them at the Allen's Lane Bridge. There were shows to go to tonight. The World Cafe to visit. An Office to watch. A delivery Pizza to order.
First question: Who were these people?
Second question: I'd heard of a thru who'd come upon some sort of adventure race and sprinted his way with the finishers. Who is that? I channel this person? Put me in contact.
Them: jogging shorts with reflector strips. Two-toned sneaky thingers with tire-tread-traction. Ankle socks. 5k (badge of courage) complimentary fun-run T shirts.
Me: half-buzzed from a happy hour. Re-worn Murda'City Sports club shirt. Gerber knife. Petzel Lamp. General hint of malaise. Indifference. Confusion.
West of Rittenhouse Towne I found an unusual blazing arrow sprayed into a turn in the path. Flouresent Green. As I stared, perplexed and bemused, the sound of a pack broke the usual road-noise-horse-tour-disc-bike-brake-clatter. Something was chasing something.
Soon enough I was chasing them. Them: 15-odd running enthusiasts, obviously prepared for the jaunt. Me: head to toe cotton and sucking wind.
We tread the dirt about the Blue Stone bridge. A half-mile later shot the gap under Walnut Lane. Paused to reflect that this was the highest non-suspension bridge of it's kind. They just don't build 'em like they used to. I put my head down and we breezed by the Toleration statue. Learned where the first baptismal pool in Philly is.
"What are we running for?" I asked.
No answer
"Where are we going?"
Nothing
We gained momentum and sprinted past the Kitchen Lane bridge. The pack sailed around the turns under blooming shrubbery. Mountain bikers stopped and waited for us.
Ok, so I blacked out. You know when you push yourself so hard your hands shake? Or when all you can hear is the sound of your heart beating and your feet falling? My breathing gained a dangerous cadence.
I left them at the Allen's Lane Bridge. There were shows to go to tonight. The World Cafe to visit. An Office to watch. A delivery Pizza to order.
First question: Who were these people?
Second question: I'd heard of a thru who'd come upon some sort of adventure race and sprinted his way with the finishers. Who is that? I channel this person? Put me in contact.