Saturday, March 28, 2009

Running Man

I laced up my new shoes today for a nice four mile run - eager to enjoy this beautiful spring weather. My mp3 player had been freshly stocked with a plethora of upbeat workout music. Google desktop said it was a gorgeous 53 degrees outside - a perfect temperature for a run.

As I headed out the door, I thought about bringing my key, but figured that since everyone was still home I wouldn't need it. Off I went, bounding through the streets of Provo with Flo Rida in my ears and the cool, March breeze against my face.

The run went extremely well. For the first time in weeks I felt no pain in my shins, no twinging in my right knee. The only downside was that at about three miles into the run - and halfway through Seether's version of "Careless Whisper" - the batteries in my mp3 player died, leaving me to run to the rhythm of my breathing. Something about listening to yourself breathe, when you're used to music, makes the run a bit more difficult. Nonetheless, I did enjoy the run and came home feeling very good.

When I attempted to open the door to my apartment, however, the handle refused to move. It was locked.

Now, one must understand that we have roommates that don't like people very much, or at least that's what I assume because they ALWAYS lock the door even when we're all home. It's weird. And it has caused me to seriously consider disabling the locking mechanism on our door somehow. Anyway, so I decided to ring the doorbell, because sometimes if I'm locked out I can ring the doorbell and Patrick (my Asian roommate) will come grudgingly to the door to let me in. Well, after a few rings nobody came to the door. I picked some yellowing tape - the remnants of fliers posted years ago - from the door as I waited.

No response.

I rang again and decided to do some stretching while I waited.

Again, no response.

I mashed my fingers against the doorbell in vain repetition with the fury and speed of a spider monkey. The cacophony inside must have been ear-shattering. And yet, there was still no response.

At this point in time I decided that my roommates had most certainly all left the apartment. My only hope of getting inside would be to run to a friends house and see if I could call Scott, find out where he currently was, and run there to retrieve the key from him. My guess was that he was up on campus or that he was at work (at the MTC.) Both locations were no more than a few miles round trip, so I wasn't too concerned.

I put my earphones back in (yeah, there's no sound coming from them, but it's better than running with earphones in your hand) and ran over to Laura's place. (Laura is a mutual friend of Scott and mine and lives only about a quarter of a mile away from us.) I got to her place and knocked. No answer. A 20-something woman with a baby riding her hip walked up to me with a cheerful smile.

"Do you need to talk to somebody in this apartment?"

"No, I enjoy knocking on random doors. It's this weird thing I have."

I didn't really say that. I'm not that mean. What I actually said was "Yeah, I do."

She explained that she was going to show this apartment to some potential tenants and proceeded to unlock the door and walk inside. Nobody was home, however, so I thanked her for her help and took off running again.

A few minutes and one mile later, I was at Mike's apartment. (Mike is a great friend of mine who used to share a room with me at the Halls.) I arrived and asked if I could use his phone. He gladly obliged and I called Scott. Scott didn't answer so I left a message and kicked it with Mike, his roommates, and a very good looking (albeit engaged) girl. We talked for a moment about whatever meaningless crap college students talk about when they need to fill a few minutes with a complete stranger, and then Scott called back.

I asked him where he was, preparing my mind and body for a long run to get the key from him. He replied, quite casually, with, "I'm at the apartment."

"Where you there earlier?"

"Yeah, I've not left since you left running."

"Dude! I was there like 15 minutes ago ringing the doorbell like a speed junkie! Did you not hear it?"

"Um, no. I didn't." Scott replied in his typical chill, casual tone.

"Wow. Well, the door was locked and... anyway, I'll be there in a second."

"K. I just unlocked the door for you."

Well, when I got back we figured out that Scott happened to be in the bathroom at the exact same time I was ringing the doorbell. We also realized that with the bathroom fan on, the doorbell is completely inaudible. You don't even hear a faint remnant of the noise.

All in all I ran about 6.5 miles. And even after all that, I have no pain at all in my shins, which is huge considering I'm just now starting to run again after a nasty case of shin splints.

I love my new Sauconys.

The new treads.



  1. oh man, that's frustrating! (did i spell that right? i think i always spell it wrong...anyway...)

    i need to start running again! you're my inspiration

  2. I'm sorry I wasn't home, that's so sad! I did enjoy your message though. *Dusgruntled growl* And we do need to get you a lady friend somehow, because I'm noticing increased mentions of attractive ladies lately. I hear the women at the correctional facility are free - lots of time on their hands. A good shot, no? :) If not, I can be a backup (although when Scott turns 30 and he's not married, he's got dibs. LOL).

  3. Did I tell you about the time I got locked out of my apartment in Logan and Peter was living in Wyoming? I called maintenance but no one came...that was fun. Also there were the three times we were locked out of our apartment in Evanston last summer. Two of the times were my fault...the third was the apartment manager. So, I totally understand your frustration.