Runners water belt, check. Phone arm band, check. Heart rate monitor, check. Sports tracker check and finally beautiful reggae to keep me company. Today’s target is 10km in 50 minutes at an average speed of 8.5km/hr. The weather is perfect*I should be able to comfortably pull this one *Sizzla‘s dry cry *I should truly get over this song whose lyrics am so sentimental about already* coming through my headphones; wouldn’t have asked for a more perfect beat. Aurajoki, *translated as River Aura* tranquil as always, safe for a swift wind blowing over the amethyst lillies floating on its periphery. A sudden bout of nostalgia hits me, and in a jiffy am transported back in time. The beautiful innocent days when my brother and I fished and trapped tadpoles in big jars and couldn’t comprehend how such tiny fragile creatures turned into hideous frogs and toads *which we eventually dichotomized* rivers and streams were clear and unpolluted in those days.
The strong smell of golden brown in season wheat and rye fields stretching this eastern halinen area is a free feast for anyones eyes I would choose this running course over and over any day.
According to my tracker am just concluding my second km in 11minutes at a speed of 7.9km/hr. Need to do better than this, if i will reach my target *talks to self* This track is host to other runners, nordic walkers, walkers, dog walkers *list goes on* can’t blame them. So here I am, just gearing for an increased pace in my 3rd km and Lucky Dube‘s vixenish voice seems to be nudging me on as he belts out teach the world.
I sight what looks like a Doberman in the woods a good 30 or so meters away. Am not petrified by dogs *my very good friend has 5* so i pay no attention and keep running and without warning the big dog makes its way towards me, still that does not startle me, i should have faster reflexes *note to self* until the beast jumps on me. Maintaining a positive stance, i genuinely don’t believe it will bite me, it definitely is trained and is just being friendly *self consolation* All these thoughts and many more *too chaotic to pen down* are going through my mind in split seconds. Am not sure which part of me deserves shielding, my face, hands, legs ….all i know is i can’t outrun this four legged being. Where is the freak**g owner? And from the same woods emerge an averaged built caucasian man, who seems too spaced out as to what his companion has sprinted for or to. By this time my arms are all lacerated from mister *mister because i later came to learn he was a whelp* Doberman’s attempt at hugging me. If am to keep up with my running after this unnerving episode, am saving Cesar Milan on my must watch shows, i must learn some dog whispering skills*determined note to self*
Me and Mr Doberman’s owner solved it amicably, exchange of contact info in the event that i have a rabbies like break out or any doglike septicity. Couldnt help thinking of the economic implication, had the damage been more profound. I still think i can egg in here somehow * hides* So far so good, you don’t need to shun me. Am as healthy as a horse after having soaked myself in an antiseptic bath.
The running continues.