Miles and Piles

In Berlin, when I visited last September, it was evident that many people did not pick up after their dogs. It wasn't just that you saw the stuff on sidewalks and streets and in parks. This was something the sight-impaired would have winced at. I thought it was a pretty sorry state of affairs, and was even more alarmed when told the situation had improved in recent years.

Here in Portland, dog owners are often seen pulling out there plastic bag after Bartholomew rises from his squat. Unattended, untended poop, while hardly unheard of, is disparate. You walk four or five miles and some days you see none, some days you see one pile, some days maybe two. Maybe. It's not a problem. But today, today at Normandale Park, I stepped in TWO PILES.

True, I ran the .68-mile perimeter 21 times. I took many steps. But I ran a consistent route. In fact, late in the run you could see my path marked in the grass. So if my consistent, narrow path resulted in stepping in TWO PILES, well how many piles lurk in Normandale? I shudder to imagine.

Pretty decent run, nevertheless. Fifteen miles in 2:05, an 8:30 pace. Very slow. Yo, I raced a half-marathon on Sunday and am doing another one this Sunday. I don't think I need to do anything intense right now. Actually, it was a 9:00 pace on the first seven miles and around 8:00 on the last eight. Hip was aching by the end. Both hips. And I smelled.