The weather is awfully cold, and getting out of bed to go for a run just doesn't seem like a logical option (even if I can imagine the weighing scale and the tape measure reading higher numbers these days). By the time I walk outside to catch the bus in the morning, it is not THAT cold, but of course it is also time to go to work.
So that has been the story for about two weeks now.
Yes, it is sad, I know.
The best I have done so far is make a mad dash to catch the 610 bus yesterday morning.
I wasn't particularly late but I figured I'd try to catch the earlier bus rather than the later bus. Catching the earlier bus meant less time standing out in the cold at the bus stop. It being a Friday, we got to wear jeans and rubber shoes. I used this to my advantage by running up to Old Northern Road. I saw two buses go by. I thought to myself, if someone were waiting at the bus stop, chances are the second bus would still be there by the time I crossed the street.
I looked right and left (that's what you have to do in a right-hand drive country). When I saw that the road was clear, I crossed the road quickly and ran towards the bus.
I could see that there was nobody at the bus stop.
The bus could move on any minute now.
It didn't matter, I still had to try.
Run! Run! Run!
I caught the bus but had to catch my breath as well as I handed my bus ticket. I thanked the bus driver for waiting for me. He smiled and said that he could have left me to catch the next bus. I smiled back and said that I appreciated what he'd done and that I wouldn't have taken it against him if he had opted to drive away. He smiled, obviously amused at the fact that I had ran to catch his bus.
I took my seat after he marked my bus ticket and punched the machine for my receipt.
Before the bus moved on, one other passenger was able to ride.
I overheard the bus driver saying something to the effect that she was lucky because another lady had ran to catch this bus earlier.
So, if anything, my running has paid off slightly.
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