On Monday I moved into my new office. There are endless reasons to be excited about this place. It's part of a state of the art training facility. There are showers. Clean ones. It's close to Chipotle. My coworkers are fun and they let me talk about poop. Best of all, however, is the commute.
No, not the drive. The non-car commute. It's bikable AND runnable. Seven miles through decent neighborhoods without too many stoplights.
Today was my first attempt at the run commute. Since I'd only run on about a half mile of the route before, it was like exploring while on my way to work. A mile in, I discovered quotes stamped in the sidewalk.
The run home was nearly as pleasurable, once I made it past the geese. Unfortunately, the geese also like our little paradise of a workplace. I made it past the few that inhabit the parking lot only to encounter a killer goose just down the street. I was trudging along, minding my own business on the sidewalk, when I was suddenly charged by a pissed off goose ready to peck my legs off.
At this point in this story, I'd like to tell you I was brave and stood up to that goose. On the contrary, I completely forgot I was armed with mace. (I was expecting to need this only in the case of pervert attack. The goose attack caught me by surprise.) I did not stand up in fight. Instead, I turned and ran straight into the street, screaming like a terrified child. Thankfully the car in the street stopped. I'm not sure if they stopped in order to avoid hitting me or to watch with amusement as a grown adult ran away from a bird. Either way, I was thankful not to be hit.
I would've been more thankful if they'd run over that damn goose.
In the end, I made it home safely, which I was also quite thankful for. After years of being terrified of death by shark, moose, bear, wolf, I certainly didn't want to be the girl who died of the dreaded goose attack.
That goose better watch out. Next time I'm fighting. Maybe...