This past weekend during my long run I had another encounter with the po-po, I think that’s what all the cool kids are calling the police nowadays. I guess they “see me rollin’, they hatin’, patrolling they tryin’ to catch me riding dirty.” Now I know how Chamillionaire feels. Those of you that haven’t been following this blog for very long might have missed my previous run-in with the law, if that’s the case you can read about it here.
I was finishing up my 6 mile run (yes that qualifies as a long run these days) and I was pushing the pace a little because there were people around watching me, plus it was a downhill stretch, plus I was feeling guilty about doing 6 miles and calling it a long run. Coincidentally I was running right past the crosswalk where the previous incident occurred (again, read that account here). As I approached on the sidewalk I noticed that a traffic cop was sitting in the school parking lot on the lookout for speeding motorists. It was warm out (50 degrees, which is warm by Colorado standards this time of year) so he had his window down and as I ran by I couldn’t stop myself from pulling out an earbud and yelling at him, “was I speeding?”
He laughed and waved at me before responding with “nah, but I did actually clock you at 8 miles an hour!” I smiled at the thought that he had seen me coming and clocked me. I guess some cops aren’t so bad. Although the fact that my Garmin never had me at anything faster than an 8 minute pace (7½ mph) would indicate that his radar gun was off by a ½ mph in his favor, proving that cops really are just out to get me. Whatever, I just roll on. “My music so loud, I’m swangin’, they hopin’ that they gon’ catch me riding dirty.”