Running is an individual sport (occasionally a team sport, but for the most part solo) yet at the same time runners seem to have an unspoken tie - the sort you'd have on a team (minus the bum patting). Runners typically are the folks on the street who wave, nod, and smile when a passing runner needs that extra boost.
Outside of the private club aspect, running takes you into places you don't normally get to forge. Tonight I got to be in the land of the riches, when the rich couldn't even get home. My run this evening took me up Broadway past Presidio gate and down Presidio - the street was blocked off so that no cars could drive down yet me and my Mizuno transport got to. My one time of eliteness.
The run continued around the golf course and to the lake, where I immediately had a mini freakout moment tying to the whole running solo thing - I realized I hadn't seen anyone in over a mile and the only non-growing object I did see was an empty 36 pack of beer. I did not want to run into the consumer of the beer.
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