Are You the Fastest Runner in the Park?
My day was crowded with obligations and I found myself squeezing in a short run in McKinley Park before making the rainy drive home for a late dinner.
It was dark, and the decomposed granite path was dotted with puddles. Even at this hour there were, as always, a surprising number of people running in that park..
We weaved past each other and darted between the walkers, occasionally shouting a warning, searching for a passable gap to push through.
I don’t run in this park very often, but whenever I do I can’t help but remember this excellent essay by Eric Torres published in McSweeney’s: AN OPEN LETTER TO THE FASTEST JOGGER AT THE PARK.
To begin, let me go on record as saying that you are, undoubtedly, the fastest jogger at the park. You burst out of the wooded thicket and into my sight like a firework of sweat and sleevelessness amidst Sunday’s leisurely banality. Kicking up a trail of dirt and pebbles, you weaved and dodged through the crowded walking path like Hermes in Raybans, and I could not look away.