Nov 3, 2000 Greetings and Salutations By Laurel Park :: Views- 147

On occasion I find that I am expected to defend the entire running
population on such issues as "if running is so much fun, how come joggers
always look like they're miserable?" (because they're jogging, not
running); or "why are runners so rude? They never wave or say "hi" when
they go by!"

The second question kind of bothers me and lately I've found myself paying
closer attention to the people I encounter when I'm out on my runs. I
certainly don't consider this to be typical behavior and in fact I've
found runners as a group to be some of the friendliest people around. Is
there some kind of evil transformation that takes place when they take to
the sidewalks? Or are some folks just unlucky enough to encounter several
runners having a bad day all at the same time?

It also got me thinking about my own demeanor when I run. I am by nature a
rather outgoing person yet I always try to remain respectful of other
people's wishes; i.e. if they don't want to be bothered, I try not to
bother them. Some people, when you see them on the street, obviously don't
want to be bothered. Others most definitely do want to be bothered but you
take your life (or at least your safety) in your hands doing so. I've been
told that when I'm "in the groove" and hammering away at a particularly
productive training run I look very intense and serious. So I can see how
the combination of a) pedestrian not wanting to be bothered, and b) runner
focused on the task at hand, could result in c) an encounter of the not so
"warm and fuzzy" kind.

A related, but somewhat different, situation involves cars and runners.
It's not unusual for one or two cars honk at me during the course of my
run. I'm rarely able to see the driver and if I'm lucky I'll recognize the
car. Sometimes the driver will have time to roll down the window and help
out a bit ("it's me - Chris!"). In any case, over the years I have
developed the automatic reflex of smiling and waving vigorously regardless
of whether I've identified the driver. I'm sure this is a far better
tactic than my youthful days of "flipping the bird" (a reflex developed
during high school when I was occasionally used as target practice by
obnoxious drivers who would frequent the country roads near my home). I'm
sure there have been times when the honk was not intended for me and the
driver was left wondering why the this person was waving at her. I figure
it's better to err on the side of caution than risk spreading any more
animosity in the world.

I've noticed that I tend to "categorize" other runners. There are the
social types, generally running at a relatively slow pace but smiling and
waving at everyone they see. Others are all business, eyes fixed straight
ahead (which is somewhat dangerous at intersections) and thoughts clearly
a million miles away. And there is always a small segment of the
population, overwhelmingly female, who broadcast an unmistakable "don't
bother me!" aura. These women are usually wired for sound, walkmans
clutched firmly in their hands or fastened to their arms, their eyes ready
to penetrate like lasers anyone who dares approach their space. It is
particularly irksome when the "untouchables" run in pairs or trios because
they inevitably occupy the entire width of sidewalk and thanks to their
portable entertainment systems, they are completely oblivious to other
runners until the very last second which results in a startled lurch, the
occasionally puppy-like yelp, and an inevitable angry glower from the
laser eyes.

In my ongoing quest to convince the average citizen that distance runners
are neither fruits, nuts nor flakes, I have started making a conscious
effort to acknowledge and greet anyone I happen to meet during the course
of my run. Sometimes this greeting is little more than a quick smile and
raised hand and sometimes it's a full-fledged conversation ("Good
morning!" "Isn't it wonderful out?" "It sure is!" "Have a great run!"
"You, too!"). I'm sure that during arduous runs my smile more closely
resembles a desperate growl than a friendly greeting, but nonetheless I
persist. You never know what might happen. Several years ago, while
warming up for a track workout, I greeted an extremely handsome fellow
running in the opposite direction. He smiled and turned around to run with
me. Two years later we were married.