Dick Dame Lane
"Safety Begins with You! Slow Down!" The phrase was hand painted in shaky green letters on the back of an old white kitchen cabinet, nailed to a tree along Dick Dame Lane. I saw it on my run today. It was the last in a series of three signs posted in front of a rather run-down, brown log cabin with a tan Jaguar parked in the driveway (!?!)--this town is filled with oddities, remember the "Crack Shack?"
The first sign, painted on a piece of plywood twice as big as the kitchen cabinet, said, "This is NOT a town road or a race track! It is a PRIVATE lane. SLOW DOWN!" For a split second, when I first saw the sign, I felt a stab of guilt. Uh-oh! What if this guy sees me "racing" along his private lane and comes out and yells at me as I run by? That conviction was short lived as I almost immediately realized my delusion: I would not be so lucky as to have someone think that I was "racing" at a speed worthy of being yelled at. It became clear as I ran by his other signs that they applied to teenagers in cars, not plodding mothers on foot.
Even if my pace could not have been classified as "racing" I still feel that I have made progress. Today's run felt remarkably easier than previous runs. By easy I mean less out of breath and lighter on my feet. I credit the speed-work for this improvement. If I keep up with it maybe the next time I run down Dick Dame Lane the guy will come out and yell at me for "speeding" down his private lane.