There seems to be just something about this race. Last year I was running late (ha ha, get it? Running late?! Nevermind.) and this year I was, well, I was
|I Do Like This Race!|
The race began and I started running. My Creeper started running too. We crossed the starting pad. He kept talking. And running. I glanced down at his outfit and said, "are you even wearing a bib?" To which he responded with, "no, I'm not supposed to be running this race." I mentioned that he'd be kicked off the course if he was caught, and he said, "you're worth the risk!" This is when I really noticed his clothes: khaki pants, full length, and polo shirt. It was June in Kansas.
He continues to talk as we run, telling me (recalled here in no particular order) how he's in almost as good a shape as he was in high school and wanted to know if I just started working out or if I always did through school. He told me a few more times he liked my socks, tutu, hair, and that I am pretty.. and worth the risk. He asked me how old I am, and before I answered he said, "I bet you're in your late 20's, yeah, me too." I simply answered with, "something like that". He told me that his friend said I might have a boyfriend, but he told his friend that I was "worth the risk" and that he was going to try to get my number. I told him I do have a boyfriend and he asked if I was "allowed to talk to other guys".
Let me interrupt here. If I was allowed to talk to other guys? Uh, yeah. He did.
He asked how long we'd been together, I told him about a year and a half. He said, in his "experience relationships fall apart at about two years" and that he'd "like to be there to pick up the pieces" if this happened to me. He said we could just text every once in awhile, we could be friends, and maybe eventually we could be more. He asked me if there were any concerts coming up that I knew about, and what kind of music I like. He was getting "yes" and "no" responses from me, and apparently these were enough to fuel his side of the conversation. He asked if I party much, and said that he only parties once a week or so. He reiterated that if he had "one word" to describe me, it'd be "badass" and that I was "worth the risk". He told me he works all the time, and wanted to know if I do too. He said he figured for some reason that I'm a "receptionist" and seemed a little surprised when I said I'm a nurse. Is it really that hard to believe I take care of people?! He asked if I run a lot of races, and he wanted to know if I always wear tutus. He wants to be my friend and pick up my pieces. He thinks I'm "pretty" and "badass" and "worth the risk". And he clearly has repetitious conversational tactics.
I just wanted to know how he was still breathing.
Now, during all of this, as I said, I was answering with simply "yeses" and "nos" as I was running a race and didn't have the breath to spare. I dodged in and out of other runners, he kept up. I sped up, he kept up. The entire time, he was talking. And running.
I was like, "do you even run?" and he said, "no, not usually. I can though." Obviously.
He repeated himself, the entire spiel. A few times. I told him, also a few times, that I wasn't giving him my number. He replied that it was "worth waiting for". And he continued to run with me.
I couldn't make this shit up.
He ran with, and talked to me until damn near the 2 mile mark. I finally told him, a couple times, that if I saw him at another race, we'd talk about him getting my number. Way to set yourself up for Creepiness, Chelle! Hell, I didn't know what the fuck to say to shut him up. Shortly after I said this for the final time, he said, "well I've gotta take a break, I'll catch you later!" and fell behind into the crowd.
I saw him later walking around, I turned around in hopes to avoid him. He passed by.
I have a picture somewhere shortly after the starting line with him running alongside me. When I find it, I'll share it.