Black Plastic Bags or Things That Look Scary at 5:00 am

One of the great things about this time of year is that it’s not crazy humid outside when I go out form my run in the morning. One of the not so great things about this time of year is that it is dark out at 5:00 am.

You’d think that with the amount of property/village taxes I pay that my village could actually replace the burned out bulbs in the street lights or maybe put in one or two extra but no. So now when I head out before the sun rises I’ve got several reflective thingies and a flashlight. The flashlight is mainly used so that I won’t trip on people’s trash on curb side pick-up days and so I can scan the bushes for killers.

Thankfully, I haven’t come across any killers but I’m guaranteed to freak myself out at least once every run thanks to errant tree branches and those damn black plastic bags that no one seems capable of disposing properly, like in a trash can or recycling bin.

I’m not really afraid of tripping over them it’s more about the shape these things can take on in the dark when I’m not wearing my contacts. Last week a tree branch resembled a hunch-backed four legged creature that was just waiting to pounce on me. The week before the black bag looked like a dead creature. Today’s black bag resembled a person’s decapitated head. Go ahead and laugh at my active imagination.

I’ve had some fun checking my running stats from my Garmin when I wear my heart rate monitor on these particular mornings. Yup, I spike to the top of my threshold and have to end up slowing down because I’m out of breath.

I’m just hoping that I only have to worry about imaginary critters trying to attack me and not real ones.


About scoopsontherun

I'm a SloHoMo.
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2 Responses to Black Plastic Bags or Things That Look Scary at 5:00 am

  1. Jen says:

    put in your contacts before you run this way the bags will look like bags… keep training!

  2. Are you sure it is your imagination? Just maybe your village is home to a scary creature who leaves decapitated heads laying around, and that the village has some sort of ‘we don’t talk about it mantra’ – in an American Werewolf in London style?

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