“Hey, have you heard of this guy who calls himself the Jogging Dad“?

“Jogging who“?

“Yeah, I didn’t know him from a bar of soap either, until I literally ran into him while I was on my morning running today“.

“Wait a sec, if you don’t know him, how did you run into him“?

“No, hear me out. So I was running, minding my own business, turned a sharp corner and BAM! I almost ran straight into this middle-aged guy who was coming around the other way. I don’t know what he was on but, boy, he looked mighty chirpy for someone who was panting so hard.

Anyway, he apologised, I apologised and then I noticed he was wearing a running singlet with “joggingdad.com” in small letters printed across the back. When I got to work later that morning, I naturally checked out the website and found that he blogs about running, parenting and a bunch of other horseshit“.

“Girl, is there a point anywhere on the horizon in this story, because I’m about to crack my skull open with this iPhone. This is, like, excruciatingly boring, you know“.

“Shut up, listen, I’m trying to you to tell something. Anyway, I was reading and I realised that I actually ran with him briefly at the Canberra marathon a couple of weeks ago. Isn’t that such a coincidence“?

“Hallelujah! Now, can we go and eat lunch now? Can’t believe I just wasted 2 minutes of my life listening to you talking about some daggy jogging loser“!

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Once a week between 6.30 and 7.30 in the morning, I run about 10km around the tranquil surrounds of Darling Harbour and Pyrmont. For those who don’t know where that is, it is the picturesque harbour-side precinct that we Sydneysiders often take overseas visitors to. It is the stereotypical “Lonely Planet” place where they can dine at grossly expensive restaurants, visit grotesquely overhyped attractions and donate whatever they have left to the nearby casino – a giant gambling den which doubles as an eye sore so as to further accentuate the beauty of the nearby harbour.

Last Monday, I was doing this run while wearing a singlet with joggingdad.com tastefully printed across the back. It was a present from my dear sister-in-law who wanted to test out her new fancy-schmancy sewing machine, one with more functions and buttons than my smartphone.

It was a beautiful morning, with the sun radiating warmth just above the horizon while a cool breeze gently wicked away my sweat. All this was set against an achingly-gorgeous backdrop, featuring a stunning water view, flanked by the famous coat-hanger (aka the Harbour Bridge) on one side and the ANZAC Bridge on the other.

Feeling inspired, I picked up the pace at around the halfway mark and was on such a high that I was just about to burn around a corner while belting out a song (I think it was “I want to break free” by Queen coming through the earphones) when, BAM! I almost full-on head-butted a girl coming around the other way.

The poor soul must have thought I was some kind of a deranged crack-head, rounding that corner like that. She may even have caught me on the verge of singing which, I am sure, would have freaked her out even further!

Anyway, I said sorry profusely and, after making sure that she wasn’t in cardiac shock from the near-collision, went on my merry way singing a Cold Chisel song.

That afternoon, out of the blue, I got an email to my Jogging Dad address from the same girl. It turns out she saw the “joggingdad.com” print across the back of my singlet, checked out my Blog and got my email from the website. Then she said she may have run with me for several kilometres during a recent marathon that I ran in, as part of the 3 hour 30 minute pace group.

Needless to say, I was absolutely gobsmacked. I knew the world was small but this was just an incredible coincidence. I must admit, I still don’t quite remember her from the race. In fact, I can hardly remember myself given the struggle I had during the event (this my hazy recap). But I have no reason to doubt her. I mean, why would anyone in her right mind email a stranger, a crazy one who almost broke her nose with his sweaty head at that, telling him that they unwittingly ran together in a tortuous marathon?

I guess the moral of the story is, don’t go around tight corners like a bat out of hell, no matter how pumped up you are on a run. More importantly, if you can’t help yourself helter-skelter around corners, don’t ever wear a singlet bearing your Blog URL. It is a sure-fire way of getting caught if you ever smash into an innocent stranger and you decide to do a runner!

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“Guess what? I emailed that Jogging Dad guy and, yes it was him who I ran with in that Canberra race”.

“Girl, are you still jabbering on about that shit? Fine, whatever, let me feign some interest here. So what did he say“?

“……”

“Hey, I just asked you something! Why you suddenly gone quiet“?

“I got nothing to say because he’s got nothing to say anymore. Girl, you do realise that this whole conversation between me and you is just a figment of that Jogging Dad’s imagination, don’t you“?

“Oh man, that’s it! This shit’s getting weird. I’m out of here“!!!

Keep on pounding.