Hot dang, I'm getting old...

So after dinner at Sizzler (yes, I wrote that right...), Allan, Brad, Dave and I attempted to catch a bus that we saw was coming our way. Running across the street and almost three blocks straight through almost red lights has been the most strenuous workout I've had in a long time. Seeing that bus pass me fast while I was still on the wrong block was scary. It really shouldn't have been but my mind was too freaked to remember that:

1) the guys would have asked the driver to wait just a little before ditching me (right? =) )
2) even if I was left alone, I could have called Richard to come get me (he got a cell phone for a reason right? hehe...)
3) I could have just called a cab
4) it shouldn't have been a problem waiting for the next bus, except I had no idea where to stop...

At any rate, my sympathetic nervous system kicked in, and I ran for my life. After dinner. With a heavy backpack. While I was still recovering from a cold and persistent cough. Yep. Chasing after the three guys and having it seem like they had robbed me and ran, I made it onto the bus at the last second, but had to take awhile to recover. Haven't yet though, my knees are continuing to let me know what I just did.

Dang, so perhaps we should schedule regular workouts as such. We figure out the bus schedule and make a habit of chasing after em. We deliberately pick the routes that come by infrequently, that can't be substituted for any other line and are in the middle of nowhere in a crime-infested part of the neighborhood. Now there's your motivation for fast running...