On this day, it seems another Franklin Roosevelt quotation would be more apropos, but fuck it -- this is my blog.
When I run in Sand Run after work, my biggest fear is not the murderers and rapists that some people warn me about, but the wildlife. As I plod through the darkness, I keep my eyes impossibly wide to ensure that I will catch glimpse of the frozen shadow of a deer before my presence spooks it into dashing into my running path and goring me between the third and fourth ribs. I listen for the chipmunks and squirrels and coyotes skittering about so that I don't trip over them. Forewarned is forearmed, unlike Pearl Harbor.
However, the only animals I tend to see are other humans with the occasional dog on a leash. It seems I only actually see non-domesticated animals in the full light of day, like on Sunday when I spied four dear crossing Sand Run Creek while out for my eight-miler.
These deer were nothing to fear. They were slowly entering the water, as I strode by on the path. Chances are that was as scary as it will get. But that probably won't stop me from keeping a watchful eye on the frozen shadows tonight. Usually, it's just a tree.
I would have made this post about the statistical unlikelihood of encountering doom while on the run, but that would have required tedious research. Besides, Dean at Zero to Boston and Jess at 21 Days have already done a fine job of composing such scientific-sounding posts.