So I did some running, took my Hoka Mafate 2 out for a spin in some thicker socks but my knee, which had been harassing me yesterday, continued to flare up but I did a few kilometres to make sure that even if I don’t manage 400km then at least I’m putting in effort to reach the highest possible target I can. It was pretty wet conditions last night but it all felt rather pleasant.
I jumped on my train, took my seat, played some Angry Birds Star Wars, returned fire on Words with Friends and started to read through some of the lovely blog posts that my fellow runners, bloggers and tweeters have been rocking on about. It was about 20 minutes into my journey that I finally noticed a man staring intently at me and even when I made that momentary eye contact he didn’t flinch. I was now very aware of him staring me I was being creeped out by it. It got a little worse when the train started to empty off a little and he moved seats to sit directly opposite me and stare more obviously.
What did he want?
He was a big lad and I didn’t fancy either a possible fight or worse a pick up line in such a a confined space. I put my iPad away and my iPhone, making a last tweet just incase I was about to become a murder statistic and then turned to face my aggressor, feet lifted casually onto the seat next to me to look like I was remaining casual. It was at this point that his gaze drifted down to my Hoka and I was able to more closely assess the man and consider the threat level. I decided he was just a weirdo but I was only a few stops from home and I’d be rid of him shortly. I stood up early as we approached my station and I stretched my aching post run a little as I often do while waiting for a train to pull in and in the last few seconds he stood up and positioned himself just within my personal space, breathing heavily. I knew he was too close because I could smell the tobacco all over him and there was a faint whiff of something fishy for lunch.
Now I just wanted to get off.
There are about 30 steps out of my station and the crowd made it difficult to get any headway and the man was close enough that I could still smell him. As I left the station I decided to do what I do best and that was run. Over a kilometre, under duress, I can still hammer out a sub 3.30 and that is exactly what I did – I had no intent on this unpleasant little man having any idea of where I lived.
In retrospect I should have perhaps made something of it but I didn’t. I wonder if it will happen again tonight? I’ll let you know.
But do remember runners, creepy people like this are rare and commuting is still pretty safe but always be mindful of the man who is watching you nonstop for half your commute home. And especially be mindful perhaps of the commuters on the South East train lines out of Charing Cross and London Bridge 🙂