Yesterday’s run was a bit of an odd one. It was a warm 28C in Ottawa without the humidity and I slept in so to fit my jog in I left at 2pm, probably the hottest and sunniest part of the day. I decided to do the river path as for most of it there is a lot of tree coverage. I was making good time up until the Bronson Bridge and then like always it all fell apart. There is just something about the stretch from Bronson St. to Bank St. Perhaps it is because of the distance, maybe because there is no shade, or perhaps it’s because the path is beside a busy road. Either which way the Bronson-Bank St. stretch is my nemesis. Between the heat and the nagging stitch in my right side I ended up walking half the way back home. Bah. Interestingly enough in my sweaty struggle I must have seemed extremely approachable because four different people stopped me to ask for directions or for information about the area. I found this odd because I was wearing headphones and there were other non-joggers around. The most interesting of the bunch was this random foreign guy who spoke very little English, and I very little French. After a seemingly failed attempt at directions to the bus stop I offered to walk him there as it was in the same direction and I had pretty much given up on jogging for the day. Some broken English later, I didn’t find out where he’s from but I did find out that he had done 5 years of karate and then he started to do Katas in the park spontaneously. He taught me the second kata and then I dropped him off at the bus stop. I wonder if he made it downtown, lol. All the broken English was reminding me of my time spent in Mexico on exchange trying to figure out what the hell everyone was saying. I wish I remembered more Spanish. I wonder if I’ll ever meet anyone else on my jogs through the park?