I had someone pull a gun on me as I passed his car (he was stuck in traffic). I'm pretty sure he even pulled the trigger but it didn't fire, for whatever reason.
Fortunately i was too surprised to react; I just kept running, so he didn't get the satisfaction of thinking he'd scared me.
I might be the only one that feels this way. But I get peeved when somebody in a car 10 to 50 yards away from me honks and flags me down for directions.
Seriously? You mean you want me to stop what I am doing. (a timed workout) and walk out of my way to go up to your car to see what you want because you are too lazy to even get out of the car yourself? And too lazy or cheap to buy a map or gps?
I do the waive and keep going. Then they have a puzzled look on their face like you are an alien from another planet.
Just somebody wrote:
Fourteen years old. Running. Someone threw an egg at my from a moving car, when I was running shirtless on a 90 degree evening. Hit me hard enough that it took a few days to get hearing back in my left ear (still isn't right, and that was a LONG time ago).
Was something like an early 70s Cutlass, and this was in Omaha, in the very early 1980s. If this was you, F you.
As an Omaha native, I'm curious where this happened. If it was a LONG time ago, there's a good chance I wasn't alive, so don't blame me.
YEZZZZZZZZZZ!
Jello wrote:
The last time I was in Portland:
I was running on the street about 10:30 at night. A lot of people go to bed around here at 10:30 at night. And well, I was running along when suddenly these jocks in this bright blue pickup drove up. It had KC lights, tractor tires, everything but the CB. It was a life-size Hot Wheels car for some dumb rich kid.
Well, they drove up to me and they yelled what dumb rich kids usually yell, "Hey, f*ggot," and showered me with some water. So, I stood there thinking, what a bunch of ****heads and picked up a rock. Now, I waited, ran down about a block to where the Kentucky Fried Chicken is, on Burnside, and sure enough they drove around again. They said, "Hey, f*ggot, where's the nearest McDonald's?" I said, "I don't know" and they squirted me again. So I threw the rock and put a nice-size dent in their giant Hot Wheels car. They screeched to a halt in the parking lot of some department store, who's name I don't remember, it's up the street from Fred Meyer, and they got out their clubs and they ran after me, yelling, "We're gonna kill you, you god damn f*ggot, we're gonna kill you, you mother****er."
So I got in a phonebooth by the Kentucky Fried Chicken on Burnside, held my legs straight out like this so they couldn't open the door to the phonebooth. So they began charging the phonebooth, beating on it with their club, yelling, "We're gonna kill you, you mother****er, we're gonna kill you, you god damn f*ggot." I just looked at them. So, there was a crowd gathering by this time and these kids were standing nearby and they said, "Oh, look at him, he's insane." I thought, ah-hah, here's my way out. I yelled at them, "Take me to a mental hospital right away. I wanna be be put away. Please put me away, c'mon, call the cops and put me away. Please put me away now." They said, "Alright, f*ggot, we're calling the police." So they called the police. The cop comes out and I go, ah, my savior, I'm away from these jocks. He opens up the door, "Get out of there, you," throws me up against the car, frisks me, shoves me in the back. Then he goes over to the jocks, "Now what happened here? It looks like we're going have to take him to jail but we got to have the full story first" So the jocks, who had an ace in the hole, ace in the hole Take down on the bass, a little bit down on the bass. Yeah, ace in the hole, and they go, "Well, goddammit, the mother****er put a dent in my truck, a $5000 truck, right, so I got my club, I went out and I wanted to kill him. I want to kill him. Let me kill him, goddammit. Let me kill him." So the cop made them go home, and he drove me home, and he confiscated their club and my rock as further evidence.
In 44 years of running, really, just everything. The same objects listed above--burning cigarette butts, nearly-full beers, sprays of soda, plus something that whacked the back of my head with a squelching sound and turned out to be a peach. I was furious for three minutes and then laughed, via the "comedy is tragedy plus time" equation.
The same absurd supposed insults. "Motherf---er" is fun to turn on its user: "Yup--your mother was GREAT!" As for "f---ing f*ggot," hecklers seem unaware that they're yelling "I'm a "f---ing homophobe!")
The same dangerously swerving or unswerving drivers and unyielding pedestrians. The movie excerpts--1976-80: "Rocky" theme; 1981-93: "Chariots of Fire" theme ("da-DA-da-da-DAAA-da!"); 1994-present: "Run, Forrest, run!!" (My current reply: "I kicked Forrest's *ss!") Earlier, it was more interesting: late-1960s/early-1970s favorites were "Where's the fire?", "You need a ride?" (often apparently sincere), and "HUP-two-three-four!", which as a teenager I only gradually realized was a result of the frequent inclusion of unison running in military training.
The only really weird, scary incident was in about 1993, when what looked like an actual gang of 10-12 guys sprinted out of a parking lot by a pizza place on Staten Island and chased me full-out for a few blocks. My girlfriend was riding her bike with me, and after I'd had to really gut it out to outsprint the last two guys--no idea what their goal was, but they had bizarre hate on their faces--she delivered the coup de grace while riding past them as they gasped with their hands on their knees: "And he's already run 12 miles!" (I miss her. She died. I miss Jim Carroll, too.)
The nice stuff has also happened, much less frequently, I have to say--but I'll stick to the thread.
This was maybe two years ago or so...I'm crossing a street on my long run, when this guy (with another woman, probably his wife) waits until I'm basically as close to them as I can get and yells "RUN, FORREST, RUN!" right at me. It wasn't in a good-natured sort of way either (at least it sure didn't sound like it).
my hs coach (many years ago) was running recently on some trails he approaches a weird looking guy in all fluorescent gear all new running kit. He runs by and says hello as he passes. Few minutes later guy runs back to him and goes right next to him. Looks coach up and down and says "fancy a nice wank in the woods?" Coach can see his face is serous and he tries to laugh it off. Coach responds, " oh no thanks" and runs off again! Love it! We all asked was he offering you a wank or hoping you'd wank him?? coach doesn't know cause he ran off! To some that may be rude I think it's hilarious!
Car turning right at a traffic light cut my buddy and me off while we had the "walk" signal at the crosswalk. I reached out and slapped his car with a loud thud, but I don't think it did any damage. This cowardly ignoramus whips into the gas station, tires screeching, like he's going to do something. We just kept on running as we gave him the one-fingered salute.
Got hit with a full Dr. Pepper can in the middle of my back, as I was jogging down the sidewalk.
Had some country folk play chicken with me on the asphalt with their big trucks.
Jello wrote:
The last time I was in Portland:
I was running on the street about 10:30 at night. A lot of people go to bed around here at 10:30 at night. And well, I was running along when suddenly these jocks in this bright blue pickup drove up. It had KC lights, tractor tires, everything but the CB. It was a life-size Hot Wheels car for some dumb rich kid.
Well, they drove up to me and they yelled what dumb rich kids usually yell, "Hey, f*ggot," and showered me with some water. So, I stood there thinking, what a bunch of ****heads and picked up a rock. Now, I waited, ran down about a block to where the Kentucky Fried Chicken is, on Burnside, and sure enough they drove around again. They said, "Hey, f*ggot, where's the nearest McDonald's?" I said, "I don't know" and they squirted me again. So I threw the rock and put a nice-size dent in their giant Hot Wheels car. They screeched to a halt in the parking lot of some department store, who's name I don't remember, it's up the street from Fred Meyer, and they got out their clubs and they ran after me, yelling, "We're gonna kill you, you god damn f*ggot, we're gonna kill you, you mother****er."
So I got in a phonebooth by the Kentucky Fried Chicken on Burnside, held my legs straight out like this so they couldn't open the door to the phonebooth. So they began charging the phonebooth, beating on it with their club, yelling, "We're gonna kill you, you mother****er, we're gonna kill you, you god damn f*ggot." I just looked at them. So, there was a crowd gathering by this time and these kids were standing nearby and they said, "Oh, look at him, he's insane." I thought, ah-hah, here's my way out. I yelled at them, "Take me to a mental hospital right away. I wanna be be put away. Please put me away, c'mon, call the cops and put me away. Please put me away now." They said, "Alright, f*ggot, we're calling the police." So they called the police. The cop comes out and I go, ah, my savior, I'm away from these jocks. He opens up the door, "Get out of there, you," throws me up against the car, frisks me, shoves me in the back. Then he goes over to the jocks, "Now what happened here? It looks like we're going have to take him to jail but we got to have the full story first" So the jocks, who had an ace in the hole, ace in the hole Take down on the bass, a little bit down on the bass. Yeah, ace in the hole, and they go, "Well, goddammit, the mother****er put a dent in my truck, a $5000 truck, right, so I got my club, I went out and I wanted to kill him. I want to kill him. Let me kill him, goddammit. Let me kill him." So the cop made them go home, and he drove me home, and he confiscated their club and my rock as further evidence.
So this is Oregon, huh? Tolerant Oregon! (Ray still hasn't finished tuning his guitar.)
Stopped at an odd-shaped intersection waiting to cross but standing far back from the road, and when the light turned green someone threw a full bottle of orange juice at me. Hit me square in the stomach, knocked the wind out of me, and left a bruise. Man I was pissed but too stunned to chase to see the license plate.
When I got home I called the police to report it and described the car. The office was very nice, but asked me if there was "anyone that had a beef with me." She couldn't quite grasp that someone was being an a$$h*ole.
Kudos to the guy who threw it though. He nailed me from a moving car. I'm just glad it didn't hit my head because I would've been out cold.
Dusted and harassed by hillbillies while on runs in college. They'd drive back and forth at high rates of speed, and fishtail when they got near you. They were really creepy, Charles Manson types.
Got hit in the head by a tossed soda can, but luckily it was mostly empty and I have a hard head.
Called all sorts of things, worst at 5:30 AM when a couple drunks screamed loudly from a car a few feet away.
1. Truck with a snowplow ran into me, had to ride the plow and cuss loud enough to be heard in the cab. This might be classified more under clueless rather than rude.
2. Hit by a rotten orange thrown from a car high speed. Not even time to blink.
3. Hit right in the breastbone by a penny thrown from a car at about 70 mph. Never even saw it coming, thought I'd been shot or something for a second. This might be classified more as homicidal rather than rude.
This chick with a flower in her hair totally tripped me in a super important race. I lost my chance to qualify for a big meet
The rudest thing that ever happened was being sprayed with water by a passing car. The funniest thing was being yelled at from a car, the guy said, "Babe you don't need to run you already look great". I am currently training for Air Force Officer School and enjoyed a little laugh from that.
I've been pretty lucky and have only ever had the occasional teenager make nondescript loud noises in cars as they pass by...if you've got a couple minutes though this story is absolutely hilarious:
http://www.logicoflongdistance.com/2009/08/lords-of-sidewalk.html
Running against traffic several years ago with a buddy and this Jeep comes up behind us. Hear the guy yell something and a pocket version New Testament comes hurdling at us, missed us by several meters. Ran back, picked it up, and still have it.
Talk about a thread that brings back the not-so-good memories. Especially during college years in rural Ohio. Had lots of experiences similar to many already mentioned. Also quite a few involving nasty dogs and laughing farmers.
More recently though, got nailed in the back with a salt shaker from a car going fast, so it was a pretty hard hit. Big bruise and sore back for a long time.
Man, I either don't put in enough miles or I must run in super friendly neighborhoods. I haven't had any issues like yall have had.
My work place is chill. We have a prison gym in the warehouse and the owner(a cross fitter but not an obnoxious one) lets us take 90 minute lunches as long as its devoted to physical activity. The only 'catch' is that you have to wear a shirt while on company property. I understand- nobody wants to see my emaciated white body dripping sweat all over perspective clients. It's hot in the summer so I stash my shirt in the chain link fence at the end of the parking lot. I come back from a run and my nice, tech material shirt from an out of town race is gone. I was pissed because it was a good shirt and I PRed in the race so there was a bit of sentimental value there.
A few weeks later I'm in the locker room and I see one of the loading dock guys with my shirt in his locker. I confronted him but he denied taking it. Sure man. I'm sure you ran this small town 10K on the other coast. A$$hole.
Other than that its been your usual inconsiderate people walking 3 abreast on the jogging path, cars and cyclists (cyclists are the worst) that don't give me enough space on the shoulder, and the occasional cat call which I don't actually mind.
Super soaker. Picked up a rock and threw it at their back windshield. Nailed it.