This summer I’ve been trying to get back into running. A couple months back, I bought a pair of shoes to help motivate myself (not running shoes but Adventure Shoes). It helps that the other volunteers in town also are trying to get into running. We support each other.
While I certainly haven’t stayed in my peak high school track shape (I dropped from 2:10 800m to a 3:26), I certainly haven’t lost my love of running. Running is relaxing because it clears my head like nothing else.
Today, however, it was a little different.
Kim and I met at 8:00am and headed over to the stadium for a track workout. We were doing fartleks for twenty minutes, running around the outer track. Two minutes of jogging, one minute at speed. Kim had to slow down half way through but told me to keep going, so I did. As I came around a bend, I heard a beckoning call coming my way and saw two of the stadium groundskeepers looking my way. Not wanting to ignore them in case they’d ask me to leave, I went over. The conversation went as follows:
“Do you want a drink?”
“No thank you,” I said laughing, “I’m running.”
“How many laps are you doing?”
“Twenty minutes. Two minutes slow, one minute fast.”
“Are you two working?”
“Alright, I need to run. Thanks.”
I clearly wasn’t being offered water, because I was asked, “Хотишь пить?” which is usually asked when being offered a shot. Specific drinks are usually offered otherwise.
I just thought it was funny because it seems like one of those things that you can only respond to with, “Oh Ukraine…”