It's possible that running out front and being directionally challenged aren't such synergistic qualities. I'm just saying it's possible. Today, during the group run I more or less accidentally ended up leading my color group through our eight-mile run. The red group is significantly smaller now that the Helvetia Half Marathon has come and gone. Not too many Clydesdales left (or whatever lady Clydesdales are called - Shetlands?). Fortunately, I planned ahead this time and grabbed a map off the water table before taking off.
Pete, the coach, told us "It's the same route we've done a dozen times." Well, I could have done it a thousand times, and I still would have no idea where to go. I seem to by lacking an important gene that governs sense of direction. I could get lost in a room with one door; I believe I may have mentioned that before.
When I passed the last coach, I asked him where to turn.
"The Safeway."
"Oh, the one on Chakalov?"
"No, that's a Fred Meyer, the one on Andresen."
"Oh, okay. And I turn left?"
"No, turn right."
"And then to Brandt?"
"No, we already ran on Brandt, you're looking for MacArther. - you have a map, right?"
"Yeah, I guess I should use it..." and off I ran, clutching my map, and consulting it every 30 seconds to make sure I was still going the right way.
This is why I like races. Because unless the event is sponsored by say, the Buffalo Wing Association, I am definitely not going to be out front, and in any case, they have those nice, clear directional signs and mile markers. What I really need, of course, are affirmation signs. After I make a turn, I want to see some kind of validation that I have gone the right way. Not just in running, but driving too. Would it be too much to ask for a sign that says, "Congratulations! you are still heading toward the airport..."
I had worn a loaner heart rate monitor that morning, and when Coach Eric brought up the information and was analyzing it, he asked me if the little spikes were stoplights. "Yes" I replied thinking (in a manner of speaking...) I spiked every time I had to make a turn because I was sure I was going to go the wrong direction.
Pete, the coach, told us "It's the same route we've done a dozen times." Well, I could have done it a thousand times, and I still would have no idea where to go. I seem to by lacking an important gene that governs sense of direction. I could get lost in a room with one door; I believe I may have mentioned that before.
When I passed the last coach, I asked him where to turn.
"The Safeway."
"Oh, the one on Chakalov?"
"No, that's a Fred Meyer, the one on Andresen."
"Oh, okay. And I turn left?"
"No, turn right."
"And then to Brandt?"
"No, we already ran on Brandt, you're looking for MacArther. - you have a map, right?"
"Yeah, I guess I should use it..." and off I ran, clutching my map, and consulting it every 30 seconds to make sure I was still going the right way.
This is why I like races. Because unless the event is sponsored by say, the Buffalo Wing Association, I am definitely not going to be out front, and in any case, they have those nice, clear directional signs and mile markers. What I really need, of course, are affirmation signs. After I make a turn, I want to see some kind of validation that I have gone the right way. Not just in running, but driving too. Would it be too much to ask for a sign that says, "Congratulations! you are still heading toward the airport..."
I had worn a loaner heart rate monitor that morning, and when Coach Eric brought up the information and was analyzing it, he asked me if the little spikes were stoplights. "Yes" I replied thinking (in a manner of speaking...) I spiked every time I had to make a turn because I was sure I was going to go the wrong direction.
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