occupational hazard

I am a teacher. Normally that isn't a profession that strikes fear into the hearts of many. Unless, of course, you hate kids.

Now, being a teacher isn't all that unusual. There are lots of people out there having sex...makin' babies....and guaranteeing that thousands of us out there have permanent job security. Thanks, to all of you procreatin' peeps out there...I appreciate the paycheck.

What's unusual about my job is that I am a Special Education teacher....in an alternative school for kids with severe behavior and mental health issues....in the hood. They enroll in my school for various reasons (ie. weapons violations, fighting, truancy, repeated behavior referrals, identified mental illness, returning from "big boy jail", etc.). I have the best job in the world. It's never a dull day. I have big highs, and just as big lows on a day to day, week to week basis. My students have a lot of....personality. They are hilarious. I love them. I can't imagine doing anything else.

That being said, it also isn't the safest job on the planet. I often get threatened, called interesting names, witness various forms of violence, and hear stories that would make your toes curl.

This is one of the big reasons why I run...it keeps me sane. My students think it's pretty cool that I run long distances. I get a lot of good natured teasing. The ones that make me laugh are the kids who say "I could run a marathon G. Pick me up next time and I'll run with ya. I bet I beat you." And, in the next breath, they ask me to pick up the pencil that they dropped on the floor....in front of them.

Other than for the obvious reasons, I am beginning to think I'm not normal. Sometimes (when I'm really desperate), I will go for runs after work in town. I tell coworkers that I'm leaving, and if I don't come back within a certain time period, send help. On the rare occasion that I force myself to do track work, the security guard watches me run on the cameras aimed at the track. Sometimes I will run on a trail system just outside of town (usually before after-school meetings). The first time I ventured out on the trails, I got out of my car and said out loud, "Well, this is a really dumb idea." Of course, I didn't get back in the car. I thought (to myself this time), "I'll just run real fast and get it over with before it gets dark." Ya Bets, THAT makes it better. I ran by some signs with bullet holes in them and picked up the pace a wee bit....one of the best interval days I had...ever.

So here's where the occupational hazard idea sinks in....About a month ago, I was out for a long endurance run in the town where I live. It was a Saturday morning. It was quiet, peaceful, and light on traffic. I had my ipod on and I was in a happy runnin' zone. Unbeknownst to me, a car was in trouble behind me. One of the tires on the car had a blow out....a very loud, gunshotlike blow out. So, instead of losing all bladder control, all heart function, and curling up on the sidewalk in the fetal position, I flinched. Yes, I flinched. I turned around and gave the car my best "teacher look" (known to stop grown men in their tracks), turned back around, and went on my merry way.

Now I feel a little silly letting Chicken Lady get the best of me.....

almost but not quite

I just got back from my endurance run for the week. These are a few things I learned/encountered/pondered.

1. Got up, drank two BIG cups of coffee (will I ever learn?), filled up my fuel belt, stretched, and headed out the door.

2. Bernie from the Block is no where to be seen. I saw him on my Wednesday run and noticed that he got a new haircut. I think he is in hiding out of embarrassment....he looks pretty sissy (or at least more sissy than usual). If I can catch him later when I take my dogs for a walk, I will post a picture....celebrity mug shot style.

3. Mile 2....Hot Runner Guy sighting!!!! So, Kate, you can start plotting/recording. Saturday, 10:30 a.m., Vandalia/Rte.159. Our prayers need to be more specific. He was, in fact, running towards me. However, he was on the wrong side of the street. If he followed the "rules" (see hot runner guy) he would instantly lose his status as hot runner guy. He would switch to Reckless Stupid Dead Runner Guy because he would have to run into traffic to do his 180 degree turn to talk to me. I am happy to report to Katie that he was running with a Hot Runner Friend, but you were not running with me...which will not do...according to the aforementioned prayer.

4. My fuel belt bottles are pieces of crap. I have replaced some of them before for the same reason. I have one that has sprung a leak. The leak is on the side of the bottle...just a tiny hole in the seam, so if you squeeze it, a bitty stream of liquid shoots out. In my infinite wisdom, I don't check which one it is before I load them up and make my way out the door. So, either I look like I wet my pants if the offending bottle is in the back, or (as the case was today) look like I sprouted an extra sweat gland between my 2nd and 3rd ribs. Thankfully, I was far enough away from Hot Runner Guy to have him notice the interesting "sweat pattern" that I was sporting on today's run.

5. Mile 2.5-Hot Runner Guy and Hot Runner Friend do actually turn around and are now running with me....but on the other side of the street....and they run faster than Hot Runner Girl....now it looks like I'm chasing them...which I'm not...I can't help it that they turned around!!!

6. Mile 3-Mob of tweenies taking up the entire sidewalk are walking towards me. I'm trying to figure out their interesting attire. They are wearing knee-high socks....on only one leg...and they are striped. Now, when I was in junior high, we wore some interesting fashions (i.e. tight rolled jeans, hyper color t-shirts, jelly shoes) that were questionable, so I am not one to talk. Seriously though, which brain trust among them decided it would be cool to wear one striped sock pulled up over their knee cap? Those ladies are going to have some interesting tan lines come summer. Tweenies do not hold their ground like Chicken Lady and I parted the mob like the Red Sea and go on my way, shaking my head in disbelief.

7. Mile 4- Cup 2 of the coffee is talkin' back. Gotta go...NOW. Stop at Moto Mart. There is a line. I'm doing the pee-pee dance. After the ladies in front of me take their own sweet time chit-chatting with the attendant, I ask her if I can use the facilities. OUT OF ORDER!!! Now, you would think that the attendant would recognize the international sign of immediate need of a toitee, a.k.a. the pee-pee dance, and tell me that BEFORE I waited in the line, but she wasn't the most observant person alive. The Chatty Cathy's in front of me advised me to risk life and limb and run across Saturday morning 159 traffic and go to Shop n' Save. I politely thanked them for their unsolicited advice and ran to Sonic at mile 5.

8. Mile 8...finish. Decide to take Ross and Buster for a walk. Pray that Hot Runner Guy and Hot Runner Friend listen to the Spirit next Saturday and run on my side of the street.

playing chicken

So sometimes when I run my regular route from my house through Main Street in Cville I see this old woman. I think she is pushing about 70. I admire her cause she's out there walkin' and exercising...she looks pretty fit. This is where my admiration stops. I think she is playing chicken with me.

The sidewalks on Vandalia are very narrow and the traffic is very heavy on the street. I do the polite thing and run to one side of the sidewalk. Chicken Lady walks right down the middle of the sidewalk, causing me to run into the grass (or street) to avoid her. So, Monday I decided to see what would happen if I ran straight at her-NOT risking life and limb trying to avoid her-to see what she would do. About a half a block prior to our meeting, I made eye contact. She sized up me, I sized up her. I heard this unspoken exchange between us-"I think I can take her....punk." So, I barrel toward her head on. I got about 3 feet from her and realized Chicken Lady wasn't gonna budge. Rather than body check her into oncoming traffic, I punked out. I made an abrupt maneuver to avoid contact and had a very muddy and wet shoe to show for it.

Darn you Chicken Lady......we shall meet again.