Shorts
Today marked another victory of shorts, er, sorts for me.
I was able to raise my fist at Mother Nature, shake it madly in the air and let Her know She hasn’t broken me yet.
I ran in shorts.
Yep. November 20, Minnesota, 30-degree windchill. And I wore shorts.
Darn near filled 'em, too.
About two-and-a-half miles into my run I encountered a big buck. A stately creature with a sizable rack was he. Not sure exactly how many points he had on his rack – I wasn’t curious enough to ask him – but it’s safe to say his antlers branched in as many different directions as my hands’ fingers.
It’s not unusual for me to encounter deer. I often see does and fawns when I run. I’ve seen as many as 13 deer at a time. But encounters with bucks are rare.
Within the past year I nearly came nose to nose with a buck on the running trail. I bet I ran to within 20 feet of him before he left the trail and darted into the woods. But that was several months ago, at a time far different than now.
This is rutting season for deer. I’m not a wildlife expert, but I know enough about deer around here to know that their lives change significantly in October and November. It must be something hormonal. The bucks become very territorial. I’ve heard horror stories about them becoming aggressive toward humans. Heard a conversation about this on the radio about a week ago.
So you can imagine the thoughts going through my head as I spotted the buck 150 feet in front of me today. My thinking went a little something like this:
As I neared him, he veered off the trail and into a clearing alongside it. No longer were we on a collision course. He was still moving toward me in this Look-At-My-Majestic-Rack manner, only now he was 25 feet off the trail.
He continued to prance parallel to the trail and through the clearing until I passed him. I was booking. Funny, he slowed as I neared the passing point. Maybe he was sizing me up, thinking I might be a crazy man for wearing shorts, much like Greatest Girlfriend Ever does. Or maybe he was simply admiring my legs, also like GGE???
Whatever the case, I safely eluded the gallant creature as well as the portentous thoughts that filled my suddenly vivid imagination.
Another run done. Quite possibly my last bare-legged run until April.
I was able to raise my fist at Mother Nature, shake it madly in the air and let Her know She hasn’t broken me yet.
I ran in shorts.
Yep. November 20, Minnesota, 30-degree windchill. And I wore shorts.
Darn near filled 'em, too.
About two-and-a-half miles into my run I encountered a big buck. A stately creature with a sizable rack was he. Not sure exactly how many points he had on his rack – I wasn’t curious enough to ask him – but it’s safe to say his antlers branched in as many different directions as my hands’ fingers.
It’s not unusual for me to encounter deer. I often see does and fawns when I run. I’ve seen as many as 13 deer at a time. But encounters with bucks are rare.
Within the past year I nearly came nose to nose with a buck on the running trail. I bet I ran to within 20 feet of him before he left the trail and darted into the woods. But that was several months ago, at a time far different than now.
This is rutting season for deer. I’m not a wildlife expert, but I know enough about deer around here to know that their lives change significantly in October and November. It must be something hormonal. The bucks become very territorial. I’ve heard horror stories about them becoming aggressive toward humans. Heard a conversation about this on the radio about a week ago.
So you can imagine the thoughts going through my head as I spotted the buck 150 feet in front of me today. My thinking went a little something like this:
- Hey, there’s a deer.
- Wow, that’s a big one.
- It’s a buck.
- Holy crap, he’s enormous.
- Um, he’s coming in my direction.
- Dude, you so cannot outrun him.
- Imagine the headlines – "Buck 1, Runner 0," "Deer bucks trend, hunts human" -- you’ll make when you’re mauled by this thing.
- Maybe if I scream like a sissy he’ll have pity on me.
As I neared him, he veered off the trail and into a clearing alongside it. No longer were we on a collision course. He was still moving toward me in this Look-At-My-Majestic-Rack manner, only now he was 25 feet off the trail.
He continued to prance parallel to the trail and through the clearing until I passed him. I was booking. Funny, he slowed as I neared the passing point. Maybe he was sizing me up, thinking I might be a crazy man for wearing shorts, much like Greatest Girlfriend Ever does. Or maybe he was simply admiring my legs, also like GGE???
Whatever the case, I safely eluded the gallant creature as well as the portentous thoughts that filled my suddenly vivid imagination.
Another run done. Quite possibly my last bare-legged run until April.
posted by RTG at 3:47 PM
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