Yesterday morning I was running with a friend/coaching client. We were planning on doing 14 miles together. After 2.5 miles I had to make a pit stop. (See: Runner’s Gut) As we were approaching the end of our first 7 mile loop I told her, “I don’t think I have 14 miles in me today. I really don’t feel well.” She told me to go home and get feeling better. I got in my car, feeling a little bit of relief, a little bit of guilt and a whole lot of discomfort.
I pulled out of the parking lot, got up to 30 miles an hour and then… FLASHING LIGHTS. I was being pulled over. It was a school zone, oops…
The cop came to my window and took my license while asking, “Are you in a hurry?”
I said, “No… well, yes, I don’t feel very well.”
He said, “Sure… don’t I see you running with your friend past here every week?”
I said, “Yes… that’s what we were doing today. I had to bow out early cause I wasn’t feeling well.”
He said, “How far were you running?”
I said, “14 miles.”
He said, “That’s sick right there miss.”
Then it started to get really weird… He said, “You and your friend see me out here every week. Why would you speed? You know I’m here because you make fun of me for being fat.”
HUH?! What?! I said, “Um… no, we’ve never made fun of you.”
He said, “Yeah, you run past and you make fun of me cause I’m fat.”
Then he looked at me and said, “Are you feeling okay? You look really pale and you’re pretty sweaty.”
Well, never mind the fact that I had just run 7 miles that would make someone sweat… plus the extra sweat that seems to come on after I stop moving. But I do recall mentioning a couple times that I wasn’t feeling well.
He said, “Don’t get sick on me. Puke on your leather seats if you have to, but not on my uniform.”
He looked closer at me, “You’re real pale. And sweaty. And one pupil is bigger than the other. Is something else wrong?”
I was kind of scared of him, but I couldn’t help it…tears welled up in my eyes and I said, “I’m just really stressed. By my job, by outside commitments, my eye isn’t healing properly after eye surgery, my husband is out of town, and I got sick on a run.”
He paused and then said, “Yeah… that would do it. Listen… you just go home. And don’t speed anymore. And don’t make fun of me cause I’m fat. I’m watching you and your little friend. Now head home.”
While I’m immensely relieved I didn’t get a ticket and that I didn’t puke on a cop, the whole thing kind of creeped me out a little. I used to think it is a good sign to see a cop while out running early in the morning in the dark. But this guy with his imagined stories of us mocking him and keeping an eye on us was just a little weird.