August 16, 2001
Well, this morning I wasn't so rude as to ride on by the mysterious guy with the orange safety vest and the flashlight. Seeing someone like that once (at 5:30 AM, on a country road, miles out of town) is odd, but understandable. I figured it was somebody looking for a good place to bury a body or a paperboy who got lost or something. Seeing him twice, well, that's just odd. I had to know why.
So when I saw him this morning, I stopped and said hello and asked if he was out for a walk. He said yeah, he was a cardiac patient and walked three miles a day, and liked to do it before it got hot. He used to walk five miles a day, before congestive heart failure, and his doctor said there was no way he could have survived surgery if he had not been in such good shape. He said after the surgery he gained 38 pounds in three days and was trying to work it off now. In the dark, I'd say he looked pretty good.
He said he did a mile alone, then a mile with his dog ("I'm trying to bond with him") and that was it for the morning. In the evenings, around 10:30 or so, he said he went and walked another mile or so. I rode on after wishing him luck.
I finished my ride thinking about this guy, and that hearts are funny things.
Over time, I have learned a few things. Jim's on medical leave until December, when he'll be re-evaluated. "Congestive heart failure is much more serious than a heart attack" he told me one morning. I've also learned that his wife works at Soil and Crop Sciences here at A&M and has for around thirty years.
August 24
This morning I met Kelly, after scaring her to death with a friendly "good morning" as I rode up behind her at a stop sign. She was on rollerblades, which explains how she could hear me, and wearing a backpack. Not to go to school, as it turns out (it was six AM after all) but to go workout. She says it isn't worth buying a commuter pass to park at the gym, which I agree with fully. The shuttle busses don't start running until seven or so. When I asked if she was new here, she replied with an emphatic "no, I'm 24, I'm old..." and all I could do was grin. At least she's too old to be my daughter, but not by too much.
I'm thinking I really enjoy talking with fellow people in the morning. As much as I like to ride by myself, to collect thoughts and write letters to the editor in my mind that never get sent, I really look forward to the occassional friendly word with other folks.
- Brian
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