As I run the one-mile neighborhood loop today, dodging banana peels, it’s just another dreary early afternoon plod. Then I hear the siren.
One of those fire department pickups (what IS the point of them, anyhow) comes racing down the block and stops just ahead of me. A woman jumps out and yells into a walkie talkie (they still use walkie talkies?) I reluctantly pass by and keep going on my round.
As I continue on the first mile, I can hear more sirens. I’m not smelling smoke, but there’s enough noise to indicate something’s up. I can’t wait to get back around.
As I begin Mile 2, two fire trucks have joined the pickup. The boys are suited up and ready for a game. They’re dragging hoses and setting up. There’s a faint odor of burning electrical stuff, but no sign of flames out the top or anything dire. I consider yelling “MY BABY!!!!! WHERE’S MY BABY!!!!!” but I see that one of them has an ax. I keep running.
Mile 2 flies by as I can’t wait to see what has happened. Alas, not much. By the time I start on mile 3, one guy has an exhaust fan in the front door and everyone else is chatting. Must not have been much. Still, it’s a pretty cool sight to see firefighters in their gear just hanging out. Normally I only see them in the calendar wearing nothing but suspenders. Hey, I bought it for charity.
I go through mile 3, shut off the watch and pretend to cool down as I walk by one last time. They’re packing up and getting ready to leave. It was amazing how quickly the 3 miles flew by with this diversion.
What if there were a really BIG fire. Maybe on long run day? What a great run that would be. Wait. I mean what a tragedy. Yeah, that one.
So if you read a police report of a runner in a skirt with a limp leaving the scene of a major fire, you’ll know what happened. I just got fired up about running.