Morning Run. A Doctor. Facebook

They pour out of their abodes. They spill into the boulevards, sidewalks, running trails. They sweat. They tire. They pant and gasp for breath but they keep running, which is to say that what they do is hitched to something bigger than themselves – to a purpose, you might call it, a will. They run through the morning chill, breathing out steam into the crisp morning air. Each step for them is precious, brings them ever closer to that purpose, whatever it is. Some bring their pets along but some run alone, battling solo like lone wolves. They are invariably young, this latter group. And hip, and always have iPods strapped around their arms, and earphones plugged to their ears. They are here but they are elsewhere too, lost in the rhythms and melodies of some song. Others run in pairs quietly – elderly couples mostly. Nobody tells you they are couples. That's not something you will be told, because at this hour nobody cares. Just look at their matching running gear and you'll tell. Even the couples don’t talk because a morning run is a journey that even though you may be accompanied to, is still one you pursue alone.

I run too. I step out and lap the miles. I would have said I run just to keep fit but that would be too simple – lovely as that is – and a bit too orderly and balanced. And while that is true, the reasons I run in the morning go beyond it, and are unconcerned with mere convenient symmetries. There’s something about the act that sustains, if you stop and ask any of those souls out there. Sometimes when you run that early you see the world unguarded, in its very essence; you see the world buck-naked because she opens up to you. You see sights and hear sounds and breathe in smells that you don’t encounter any time else. The world is more generous and honest at this time. She readily provides for our health, and that means our happiness too. She keeps away bastards like cholesterol that might want to creep into and make our hearts weak. Or even the fats that pile around our society’s waistline thanks to all the junk food and lifestyle. She clears and strengthens our minds too. It is while taking these runs that I have had some of my most staggering thoughts. And beheld some of my most memorable scenes.

This one time I was running on the sidewalk, humming a song under my breath. That's not very accurate; I was panting the tune out. I got to a crossing zone and stopped because I was looking to cross to the other side of the street. The traffic lights were red and vehicles had stopped to allow us, the pedestrians, cross but I did not do so; I felt one of my laces go loose so I bent down that very instant to tighten it first. I would have then crossed if I wanted to but I decided to wait for the traffic to move. That's when I saw it. Like a silent film. Playing slowly, as though on slow motion. The car closest to me was a mini van. It was waiting, like the rest, for the lights to turn green. On the driver’s seat was a middle aged man in glasses and a moustache. There was a polythene bag sitting on his lap. Even though the windows were rolled up, I could see the inside of the car well enough because I was standing very close. On the back seats were two kids. Boys. They could have been three or four. Twins probably. And that man on the wheel must have been their dad. There’s this thing he would do as he was waiting for the lights to turn green: he’d reach into the bag and pull out something (I couldn’t tell what it was) and turn and dangle it in front of the two boys on the backseat and, immediately, they would rush for it, like angry dogs, pushing and shoving till one of them grabbed it by the teeth and gobbled it. Then they’d wait again, like puppies, for dad to dangle another, which he dutifully did. When the lights turned green they drove off with the rest of the traffic. What!!? What had I just seen? Are these the games moustached men play with their kids when stuck in morning traffic? Whatever... but again, these are some of the things you see in the morning.

[Enter stage left, Solomon*]

This is my friend that I run with sometimes. A clean-shaven guy with gentle eyes. An amazing guitar player. I’ll tell you something about him shortly, just hung on. What I do when I plan to run is I wake up at 5am and brush my teeth (this is to wake me up completely). I lace up my trainers, throw my hoodie over my head and silently step out into the bleak dawn chill. And some mornings can be inhumanly chilly I tell you, cold even, like a hyena’s snout or a witch’s titties. I jog over to Solomon’s place - if he’d told me he was gonna come along – and throw a pebble at his window to signal to the son-of-a-gun that am out here waiting, he better step out quick. We then head out. We never converse the whole time till after we are done.

Now,

[Enter stage right, Facebook]

If you live under a rock, or happen to have found yourself in this century by mistake, Facebook is a social networking site. Meaning that people interact (or is it socialize) with loads of other people. People speak their minds here. They take photos of themselves on shaky phones when they do something cool that they'd want others to notice and put those photos here and their “Friends” then, in turn, “Like” them and give props. Sort of like a pat on the back. It’s just like the real world, you know? Oh, and another thing: you can talk to someone in camera too, away from all the noise of the yuppies who walk the streets of this little virtual world courting attention like celebrities. You do that by dropping your message into this “someone’s” inbox. And they can get back to you the same way. Or if you want to let them know that you know they are still around, that they haven’t kicked the bucket or something, you can “Poke” them.

You interact with people from all walks of life just like you do out here in the real world – lawyers, fishermen, teachers, football players and doctors…especially doctors.

            Now the reason I summon Facebook onto the stage is because Solomon told me a story involving Facebook and it’s only fair that I bring the folks over from UnderTheRockVille up to speed. We had just finished our run and were now just stretching and exchanging banter when he mentioned that he happens to be Facebook friends with a certain doctor from the neighborhood. Pretty neat, no?…only he thought that that denied him the thrill of telling a few harmless lies anymore when they were needed. This is what he meant: he stopped by this doctor’s office and their conversation went something like this;

-          Hey Doc, I feel a little under the weather…

-          I can imagine, that was some crazy party you went to, eh?

-          I don’t think I follow…I was home the whole weekend…

-          Nuh, man… don’t you remember, you were at this pad with an Olympic-size pool… with Melissa and that other girl, the tall one with dimples. And your boy was trying to lick face. Do y…

-          Oh, that…I had forgotten about that one…

-          You forget too soon Solomon. You only uploaded the pictures last evening…

-          What the…

-          Don’t worry, doc-patient confidentiality. Anything you tell me is strictly between us, like say if you gave me Melissa’s number I wouldn’t mention your name, you know…You could suggest that she becomes my friend.

-          Well, I don’t know her that well…

-          C’mon Solomon, you have 37 friends in common… but enough of that, what’s the problem?

-          I don’t feel well Doc…

-          You feel like your head’s got a 24-wheeler truck trying to come out of it? And like everything you eat won’t see eye to eye with your insides and wants to leave? Using whatever exit is available?

-          Yes Doc, how did you figure that out?

-          Well, that’s your status message from this morning, or was that not you?

-          Oh…I..

-          Don’t worry about it, it’s nothing; just a hangover…Albert was right. And he seems pretty cool; do you think he would let me friend him?

-          What?

-          You’re probably right, why don’t you like his status message and suggest that I like it too…

-          Dude, that’s weird…

-          No it’s not; weird is poking every girl you have a crush on, on Facebook.

-          Do you do that?

-          Of course not…do you think I should?

-          Dude, focus…I’m sick.

-          No, you are hangover. Just go home and get some rest; you’ll be fine. Now seriously…do you think it would be weird if I poked Melissa on Facebook…, you know, before we meet for real?