Something Old, Something New, Something that Burrows, Something Blue

The title of this post provides a template for the entry.

I am a senior at BYU--something old and blue--attempting to train for a 10K--something new. 

I prefer to run in the evenings, using the exercise as a reward for completing my daily checklist. In my mind, the benefits of running at the close of the day have always outweighed any dangers. Yes, the dark makes navigating automobiles and texting-while-strolling pedestrians a mite more difficult than runs I've completed in full daylight. However, the exhilaration of racing the remaining sunlight as it slides past the horizon made me feel justified in downplaying any safety concerns.

This week I had an experience that me wonder if my justifications were putting me in danger.

I was halfway through my favorite route, curving my run around the South campus trail to enjoy the water features. As I rounded up a hill, I stopped dead in my tracks.  A gang (though Google states the correct term is "gaze") of creatures--something that burrows--guarded the top of my climb.

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As a child, I frequently read through my family's copy of Worst Case Scenario. The situations in the book seemed so far-fetched that I enjoyed them for their science fiction quality and never internalized the advice. But now, over a decade later, I found myself wishing I remembered how to handle encounters with masked bandits. 

Fortunately, the feline-like creatures contented themselves with a 5-second staring contest with their intruder--the gaze gazed at me--before they lost interest and disappeared into a patch of neglected landscaping.

I returned to my apartment that night with a better appreciation for the dangers associated with running at dusk. Maybe I'll leave nature in peace for its nighttime rest and allow myself to do the same. After all, I've heard that racing the sun as it climbs the mountain peaks is just as motivational.