Today I went to Pelham Bay Park Track and old-lady yelled at some clowns who were dragging a weighted bag around. On my first lap, I noticed dark tracks in the field--the expensive field. I thought to myself, "Okay, do I say something or not say something and then obsess over it for the rest of my work out?" I decided on the former. I hate obsessing. Sometimes it's easier for me to say something than to not say something. So on my next lap, I idly jogged over and nicely said I saw a lot of tracks in the field and hoped they weren't ruining it in any way. The "coach" grunted that it was "fine." Okay then! Proceed! Perhaps they were just pulling the bag against the knap. Either way, I kind of felt better just saying something. Let them sort out their consciences. Then I ran around with a sort of glee at myself for saying something. I'm pretty cool today. In my own opinion.
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