I have box jump bumper stickers with my heights written on them, in metric, so folks will think I'm a cosmopolitan plyo guy. Unfortunately, the squirrels and jack rabbits mock my accomplishments. But the neighbors are impressed--they're always asking me to come over and change their light bulbs.
Butt seriously, I like to run alone in relatively unpopulated areas, when no-one's looking. Unfortunately again, it's hard to do that in an urban setting.
In general I think bumper stickers are lame, but no one makes you look at them, right? I also have very little urge to enter a race, but to each their own. Live and let live. Of course, I might reconsider the whole racing thing if I actually had a chance of winning a pretty ribbon.
Wow, scary. I've never felt that kind of hostility towards me as a runner, although a few times adolescents have laughed, and a few blue-collar road construction types have given me some cold stares, presumably more at the barefoot and middle-aged aspect than the running aspect. I guess I live in a good part of the country; most of the responses are either neutral or approving.
I think the author's point about fitness-envy concords with some of the comments here. Some people do resent those of us who trouble ourselves a mere 30-60 minutes a day to stay fit and healthy. I have never been really unfit, but I've lapsed enough to know it's not really even a choice. Life is better in every way when you're fit, and can really suck when you're unfit. I can't believe everyone doesn't know this simple fact. They must know it, and so any resentment is just a displacement/projection of their dissatisfaction with their own laziness. Sometimes when I see
fatties obese people I just want to tell them to stick with it for six months, let 'em know it gets easier and fun, and they'll feel soooooo much better. Instead I just murmur to myself, "there but for the grace of running go I."
