Apparently any physical activity at 4:30am makes me look like a criminal. My first day running after a long stint of lazyness, only 4km and I stopped at the tiny beach down by the lake for a while to take in the view. Almost home free and a cop stops beside me to ask some questions. "Where do you live?" he asked me twice, after watching 3 seasons of Numbers over the last weeks I figure he was trying to see if I lied the first time, you know for a moment I actually thought he was interested in my workout—I mean he did follow me for a block before pulling me over. I wanted to ask him if my form was in disarray but the expression on his face while I tried to explain why I hadn't been running the last few months illustrated he was in fact not interested and over hearing the dispatch after he finally went ahead of me to wait at the address I gave him led me to believe he thought I was a vandal. Oh the shame I felt as my dyslexia caught up with me and I thought for a moment that I was actually a burglar before reality and the cops wild imagination stretched back into their true positions in my head and I quietly opened the front door.

At least the last time I got pulled over the cop had reason to, I mean I had been biking for 3 hours straight to Niagara Falls(it's 40km there and back, mostly uphill there, and I had only started biking that week after not being near one in 4 years). I was exhausted—and looked it—in addition I had a backpack and for some reason there's this confusing round-about which I exited orbit of too soon and ended up cycling on a freeway service road towards the United States border, which I believe at the time was on an orange alert or red or whatever one it is where they look for tired people on bicycles trying to torture themselves for a mild endorphine kick.