Longtime readers will recall the Great Fast Guy Mystery.
Our bartender is a really fast runner. A guy in our neighborhood also is a really fast runner. They’re both tall and thin with a blonde ponytail. They look exactly alike. BUT. Fast Guy wears road shoes and sunglasses. Our bartender always wears NB trail shoes. Mo has always been adamant that they’re the same guy. I declared they could not possibly be the same person.
I saw in the news a couple of days ago that a runner was nailed by a hit-and-run driver on the road you cross to get to the bay trail. It’s sort of dangerous because it’s a blind bend and there are no traffic signals forever. So it’s just a runner version of Frogger to get across. This runner lost.
Watching the news today, I saw him. The bartender was on TV, all bandaged up and on a crutch. It’s gotta be Fast Guy, because that’s his daily course. And he said that despite every bone in his body being broken, it shouldn’t slow down his training for the NYC marathon too much. So the bartender runs road races after all.
The worst part? No, it’s not that this poor guy was sent flying 20 feet in the air by some asshole who didn’t have the decency to stop and see whether he survived the crash or not.
No, it’s not that as a bartender his health care probably isn’t that great and this will be a financial disaster.
And, no, it’s not that despite his consistent 7-minute pace on 95-degree days, news reports still referred to him as a “jogger.”
No, the worst part is this.
Mo was right.
I feel his pain …