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Your neighborhood stranger

Chances are by the time I reach my usual finish line, after taking a new route through the wooded trails of Claude Moore park, my run would have not spanned my standard three miles. I can feel my legs still have enough pep in them to go another half mile, so I take the corner and turn in the home stretch on Amelia Street. People are out walking. Boys playing basketball with the hoop on the sidewalk facing the street. A group of five kids ages 13 through 7 are walking to one their houses. I pass by a woman walking her dog, just like I did Tuesday, except this time it doesn't snarl at me. It's the first time I've seen the neighborhood active like this. After six months, I get a sense of that warm fuzzy feeling of community for Sterling Park.

I cross the street and come to my block. Its end can't be more than a quarter mile away. Across the street from my house, two Latin boys are bouncing a ball - one of those cheap basketball-size ones they have bins of at Toys R Us. The eight year old is chattering. His younger companion is wearing his pajamas already. He is no more than two thirds the size of his elder brother. I can barely remember the time when I towered over my brother Jimmy in the same manner. “Hey the neighbor’s kids!” I imagine. I wonder if I’ll be able make eye contact as I pass them by. No more than 10 feet away from them, they start running too. Perhaps this bolt is spurred by some brotherly game they were playing (Hey, let’s bounce the ball five times then book it to that mailbox!), but from my vantage it certainly feels like they are running away from me.

As I pass by them it occurs to me that I’m a complete stranger to these kids. I’m the creepy guy. Little to they know I’m just a neighbor on a run. Fifteen years ago I would be doing they same things they are right now. But I can sympathize for these guys. You don't talk to strangers - especially skinny white ones with 36 hours worth of unshaven scruff. I reach the end of the block and turn back around, post-run huffin’ n’ puffin’. The boys are walking towards me. I have another chance to make some sort of connection. Just a quick “hey guys” to show that I’m nice enough to recognize them. But the older brother is still blabbering to his baby brother, obviously a move to keep the both of them from catching my glance. I can’t blame them - I’m the creepy guy.