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(Not) Mr. Crankypantsland
Jul. 23rd, 2018 03:48 pmThis afternoon, I managed to get to the high school track between rainstorms. The first one wasn't bad, just a few sprinkles, but it left me feeling like a steamed clam towards the end of my 2nd lap.
Then, a quarter-lap ahead of me, I noticed that the man with whom I'd been more-or-less keeping pace had been flagged down by one of the workers near the entrance gate.
In fact, he was leaving the track as I got up to the gate--not a good sign. So I said to the guy who was waiting there for me--in a fake accusatory voice--"You're kicking me out, aren't you?"
He laughed and said that he was afraid so, that the contractor doing the work on the viewing stands was having an ass ache over the pedestrian traffic near where they were working.
Which was understandable, from both productivity and liability standpoints. So I wasn't gonna give him a hard time over it--or even ask to finish my laps, since I was only a third of the way through them.
Instead, I asked what the prospects were for the next day or later in the week. He said that he was going to try to get a different gate opened for the next day but hadn't discussed it with the school as yet.
So, I thanked him and walked out to the parking lot.
As I got near my car, I saw the guy who'd been ahead of me on the track and asked him if there was another place nearby where folks could walk.
He replied, rather curtly, "There's WG, but it's not nearby."
So I said, "OK, thanks, Mr. Crankypants," and got in my car. No, I really did. Get in my car.
Then I drove out to WG High School, which is like a college campus compared to WH, and found my way to the track.
Actually, the school has two full-size football fields with viewing stands, tracks, and broadcast booths. One is an older facility with grass turf while the other one is newer and has artificial turf.
The older field was directly beyond where I drove in, so I went there, figuring that the newer one was likely not open to the public anyway.
Unfortunately, It was quite apparent that the older facility hadn't gotten much love, in recent years. Not that it looked neglected, it just looked and felt, well, used.
At this stage of my "athletic" career, I absolutely need two things underfoot when I do my fitness walks. One is a serviceable pair of Nike Air Monarchs--which I buy myself, this is not a celebrity endorsement--and the other is a track paved with resilient rubber compound.
Because, if I don't have both, I know I'm gonna do more damage to joints, tendons, ligaments, etc. than could possibly be offset by any potential benefit.
(Which is why, whenever I encounter someone running on a concrete or asphalt roadway, I just shake my head. Because, guess what, our evolution from knuckle-draggers to upright walkers was not accomplished on such unforgiving surfaces.)
In any case, I wouldn't have needed to actually SEE the track to know that, like me, it had seen better days.
In my first few steps, I could FEEL the effect of the hundred million or so footfalls it had endured since its installation. So I immediately decided to walk just the mile that I still owed after my earlier two laps at WH.
The other thing that I noticed, in the moist heat of mid-afternoon, was the smell of... hmm... could it be... [SNL "Church Lady" voice]... URINE?!?
I first noticed it when I passed the long line of bleachers but tried to dismiss the notion because, well, WG is such a classy district.
Not classy in the same way as WH, maybe, but it's a big district west of the city and has adequate resources and a fairly stable population base to maintain them.
Or maybe it's just that ANY district looks classy next to the city that folks outside of it have taken to calling "Little Detroit" or Sewercuse. Truly sad what's been happening there over the last 20-30 years. But I digress, dear reader.
To get back on track, so to speak, I had noticed a rather tall man at the far end of the outside lane when I first drove in. From a distance, he resembled Mr. Crankypants and I had actually glanced around the lot to see if his car was there.
It wasn't and, once I got out on the track, I determined that the similarly-dressed man out ahead of me was not him.
After a lap or two, I decided that the "Church Lady" voice had been right and, at the same time, realized that (Not) Mr. Crankypants was no longer ahead of me on the track.
At that point, I was coming around the turn towards my starting point, which was near the entrance gate AND a stairway which appeared to go somewhere below the bleachers.
As I was puzzling as to how I could have missed this feature on my way in, who should emerge from the mysterious stairwell but (Not) Mr. Crankypants. And he was, at that very moment, zipping up his, er, (Not) Crankypants.
Eww. Mystery solved. Since I still had one lap to go, I did it at the very inside of the inside lane. As far away from the odor of (Not) Mr. Crankypantsland as I could get.
With that accomplished, I got in my car and turned east on WG St. and headed for home. As I was pulling in the driveway, the rain was starting again, with bigger, wetter, windblown drops landing heavily on the windshield and hood of the car.
Now, I'm sitting at my keyboard listening to the wind-driven downpour hitting the side of the house and hoping that this is the massive rainstorm we've been promised.
Just in case I have to, you know, walk in the vicinity of (Not) Mr. Crankypantsland again tomorrow...
LPK
Dreamwidth
7.23.2018
[NOTE: I should mention that I borrowed the Crankypants name from my old LJ friend, halfmoon-mollie. Her character was actually Professor Crankypants. Thanks, L...]
Then, a quarter-lap ahead of me, I noticed that the man with whom I'd been more-or-less keeping pace had been flagged down by one of the workers near the entrance gate.
In fact, he was leaving the track as I got up to the gate--not a good sign. So I said to the guy who was waiting there for me--in a fake accusatory voice--"You're kicking me out, aren't you?"
He laughed and said that he was afraid so, that the contractor doing the work on the viewing stands was having an ass ache over the pedestrian traffic near where they were working.
Which was understandable, from both productivity and liability standpoints. So I wasn't gonna give him a hard time over it--or even ask to finish my laps, since I was only a third of the way through them.
Instead, I asked what the prospects were for the next day or later in the week. He said that he was going to try to get a different gate opened for the next day but hadn't discussed it with the school as yet.
So, I thanked him and walked out to the parking lot.
As I got near my car, I saw the guy who'd been ahead of me on the track and asked him if there was another place nearby where folks could walk.
He replied, rather curtly, "There's WG, but it's not nearby."
So I said, "OK, thanks, Mr. Crankypants," and got in my car. No, I really did. Get in my car.
Then I drove out to WG High School, which is like a college campus compared to WH, and found my way to the track.
Actually, the school has two full-size football fields with viewing stands, tracks, and broadcast booths. One is an older facility with grass turf while the other one is newer and has artificial turf.
The older field was directly beyond where I drove in, so I went there, figuring that the newer one was likely not open to the public anyway.
Unfortunately, It was quite apparent that the older facility hadn't gotten much love, in recent years. Not that it looked neglected, it just looked and felt, well, used.
At this stage of my "athletic" career, I absolutely need two things underfoot when I do my fitness walks. One is a serviceable pair of Nike Air Monarchs--which I buy myself, this is not a celebrity endorsement--and the other is a track paved with resilient rubber compound.
Because, if I don't have both, I know I'm gonna do more damage to joints, tendons, ligaments, etc. than could possibly be offset by any potential benefit.
(Which is why, whenever I encounter someone running on a concrete or asphalt roadway, I just shake my head. Because, guess what, our evolution from knuckle-draggers to upright walkers was not accomplished on such unforgiving surfaces.)
In any case, I wouldn't have needed to actually SEE the track to know that, like me, it had seen better days.
In my first few steps, I could FEEL the effect of the hundred million or so footfalls it had endured since its installation. So I immediately decided to walk just the mile that I still owed after my earlier two laps at WH.
The other thing that I noticed, in the moist heat of mid-afternoon, was the smell of... hmm... could it be... [SNL "Church Lady" voice]... URINE?!?
I first noticed it when I passed the long line of bleachers but tried to dismiss the notion because, well, WG is such a classy district.
Not classy in the same way as WH, maybe, but it's a big district west of the city and has adequate resources and a fairly stable population base to maintain them.
Or maybe it's just that ANY district looks classy next to the city that folks outside of it have taken to calling "Little Detroit" or Sewercuse. Truly sad what's been happening there over the last 20-30 years. But I digress, dear reader.
To get back on track, so to speak, I had noticed a rather tall man at the far end of the outside lane when I first drove in. From a distance, he resembled Mr. Crankypants and I had actually glanced around the lot to see if his car was there.
It wasn't and, once I got out on the track, I determined that the similarly-dressed man out ahead of me was not him.
After a lap or two, I decided that the "Church Lady" voice had been right and, at the same time, realized that (Not) Mr. Crankypants was no longer ahead of me on the track.
At that point, I was coming around the turn towards my starting point, which was near the entrance gate AND a stairway which appeared to go somewhere below the bleachers.
As I was puzzling as to how I could have missed this feature on my way in, who should emerge from the mysterious stairwell but (Not) Mr. Crankypants. And he was, at that very moment, zipping up his, er, (Not) Crankypants.
Eww. Mystery solved. Since I still had one lap to go, I did it at the very inside of the inside lane. As far away from the odor of (Not) Mr. Crankypantsland as I could get.
With that accomplished, I got in my car and turned east on WG St. and headed for home. As I was pulling in the driveway, the rain was starting again, with bigger, wetter, windblown drops landing heavily on the windshield and hood of the car.
Now, I'm sitting at my keyboard listening to the wind-driven downpour hitting the side of the house and hoping that this is the massive rainstorm we've been promised.
Just in case I have to, you know, walk in the vicinity of (Not) Mr. Crankypantsland again tomorrow...
LPK
Dreamwidth
7.23.2018
[NOTE: I should mention that I borrowed the Crankypants name from my old LJ friend, halfmoon-mollie. Her character was actually Professor Crankypants. Thanks, L...]
