As my friend Ken put it, I was "spotted in the wild" recently.
Co-worker Suzanne greeted me upon my arrival at work on Tuesday with: "Did you run today?"
I thought she was merely referring to the beautiful weather, or perhaps a lingering flush, but after I said yes, she continued: "Out in West Des Moines? On 50th Street?"
Yep, she definitely saw me. "I thought about waving and saying hi, because I was at a stoplight, but I didn't," she said.
Suzanne is a runner as well, so I thought perhaps she'd refrained from a honk and a shout because she too had been startled out of her zone by such noises.
Oh no. "You had this look on your face, like you were in the zone, and I thought, 'No, better leave her alone and not break her focus,'" she concluded.
That run was definitely one in which I set a (very basic) strategy and executed it flawlessly; at the point where Suzanne saw me, I had completed step one — don't burn yourself out on the long, slow incline of doom right after the first mile — so I'm not surprised that I had a grim/determined look.
In fact, it amused me that someone I know didn't want to bother me during a run: Maybe that means I've developed a good game face along with my recent physical success.
When you're petite with a penchant for wearing pink and purple, it's nice to know that once in a while, you can look intimidating.