The Lone Jogger

Thanks to the warmer temperatures, I've been able (and more willing) to resume jogging. I had been jogging some in Chicago since about October, but the weather  forced me inside a lot. And I discovered that there's not much in the world worse or more boring than jogging on a treadmill.

So far my runs—if you can call them that; I've never been known for speed—have involved disturbing all the area dogs and even frightening some cows. I have yet to see anyone else pounding the pavement. I'm sure there must be some other runners, but I feel quite conspicuous in my aqua hoodie and iPod tromping past the well-spaced houses and crop fields. 

Although we live on a highway, Church Street, so named because of the churches lined up there in neat row, runs alongside our house and then parallels the highway. I follow Church Street down to a single sidewalk and then back to a series of 20 mph roads, where I've only encountered three trucks total. 

Maybe I'll try to find a running partner. However, I have come to relish the peacefulness of my outings. The sun, the rolling hills, pines and livestock. As I fill my lungs with the clean air and my quads constrict rhythmically, I wonder how our lives are going to change.  

Perhaps I will feel less conspicuous over time. I will become, like the cows, a fixture of the countryside. 'Oh, there she is on her run again.' Now I imagine people think me strange. Maybe it's all in my head, and they don't give me a second thought. 

Still it's hard not to feel like an outsider here. Not that we haven't been welcomed. We have. It's just that I'm keenly aware of my own difference (real or perceived) in interests, in food and wine, and world view. I am a Yankee after all, although what that exactly means to me or to them, I'm not quite sure. 

Once school starts, I'm certain our social life will improve. But I imagine I still will feel a bit on display and in a sort of audition. I hope I don't get stage fright.