Jen's Journal

After about 15 minutes we started to see the outline of the not-so-impressive inner city "mountain”. Continuing towards our goal my legs were feeling pretty good. At 28 minutes we reached the lower parking lot of Mount Doug and figured if we were planning on walking tomorrow, we should turn around now. The return was a little rougher. With a tightening hamstring and aching legs I checked to see the stopwatch reach 42 minutes. At this point Chris and I decided to start cutting through schoolyards. This would shorten the distance and decrease our pain.

The first schoolyard was great as it was an elementary school. I even stopped to ask the crossing guard which way was the quickest way back to UVic. She responded in nonsensical phrases, using retirement homes and fire hydrants as landmarks. She was quite unhelpful, but non-the-less quite polite. The second school, however, was a junior high. If anyone remembers being a teenager on a Friday afternoon, you’ll remember this is when you felt that you were on top of the world. Full of piss and vinegar, one might say.

We ran past a group of gossipy girls only to hear one of them yell out, "Going for a run! Good plan!" Within moments our lonely group of two all of a sudden had doubled. Two of the girls were trailing us and talking smack.

"I, like, run all the time," the second girl mouthed out. "I enjoy running with you!"

"Totally, this running is awesome, not very fast though." The first girl managed to get out between gasps of air. "I'd run faster with my Grandma!"

At this point I didn't know what to do. I turned to see the two girls in their tapered jeans and poofy jackets toddling along behind us. I knew they were making fun of us. I also knew anything I would say won't be very witty, or even intelligible, as I believe my brain shut off at the 45 minute mark. All I could do is look at the trail ahead and keep putting one foot in front of the other.

For that brief instance I was overwhelmed with memories of junior high. The awkward uncertain feelings rushed back, as well as the confusion as to how I had somehow become their target.

Then it all stopped as quickly as it started. The girls signed off, "Knees up, keep going! Same time next week." And the puffing girls stopped 100 meters from where they started. They returned to the giggling mob of 14-year olds.

Chris and I just looked at one and other. I think we both were a bit bewildered as to what had just happened. "Were we just being mocked?" I managed to blurt out between inhales.

"Yeah, I think so," was Chris' answer, "I think so."