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I love to run. I've been running for over a year now and enjoy running on quiet streets close to my home. When I'm not at home, I still try to run. Sometimes running in new and strange places can be a little intimidating. And then there are other times when it's just plain odd.
Last year my husband worked at a camp that was a fair distance out of town, so we lived there for much of the summer. I loved running on the long quiet country roads. I often passed by some of the locals out tending their yards and crops and since I've always been a country girl at heart, I always gave a friendly wave.
One evening I was on my way back from a particularly long run and a farmer yelled something out to me. I didn't catch it and must have looked confused because he yelled again and said something about me coming in "Second." I stopped and repeated "Second?"
He laughed and said "Yeah, I don't see the other guy, so you must be coming in second."
I was really caught off guard and didn't no what to say, so I just replied "Yeah, ok!" and kept running, and running a bit faster, I might add.
I was just thinking to myself how odd an event that was when I heard a slight whirring noise to my right. I glanced to the side and nearly fell over. It was the crazy farmer man riding a bike! I was completely flabergasted and just kinda kept running and trying to think of what to do or say in this situation.
Just then he interuppted my thoughts, saying "You're pretty quiet, aren't ya?"
I was thinking, Well yeah, I'm running all by myself and I generally don't talk to myself out loud, but instead I said "Yeah, I need to concentrate on breathing correctly."
I had hoped this would be a blatant clue to crazy Mr. Farmerman, yet, he continued biking beside me on the road and said "It's a beautiful night."
Even though I was running, I thought Maybe if I carry on some idle chit chat he might go home, so
I mumbled, "Yeah, but I think it's supposed to rain."
He came back with "I hope it pours, but it's a nice night for a bike ride."
I confirmed "Yup, it is," thinking, Weirdo, you wouldn't even be out for a bike ride right now if you were normal.
He then came out with "This is a really old bike y'a know. . . it's a 1963 CCM."
My thought was He's talking about it like it's a car. . . but said, "Yeah, that's a classic," with just a slight hint of sarcasm, which went undetected.
He continued "Yeah, I don't ride it very often, just go do the loop up here (I should point out that the road ahead is
completely straight and contains no visible loops) and to go visit Fred. Do you know Fred Fred?"
"Fred Fred?" I replied. "Nope, I don't know him."
"Are you from around here?" he asks.
"No, but my husband works at the camp down the road here."
"Oh," he said and he went on to repeat the name of the camp five times laughing to himself. Then, without a word he turned off onto a driveway, presumably Fred Fred's.
The whole scenario weirded me out the rest of the night and all I could think was Thank goodness I was running and not walking — I might have had to listen about Fred Fred's wife Mary Mary and the rest of the double-named family.
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