As my training for Javelina has increased, I have been spending more miles on the road. I love how easy it is to walk right out my front door and piece together a solid long run, but I still don’t, and never will, love the pavement.

It’s not just the pounding pains that plague me. It’s the whole experience. For starters, I’m a “good morning” kind of person. I say hi to everyone. On trail, I feel like most people reciprocate and silly as it may be, it makes me happy. But on road it’s hit or miss. Mostly miss. I’m sure there are reasons. Runners in their own head space. Focused on their pace. Wearing headphones. But seriously, how hard is it to even just make eye contact and nod the head hello.

The paved path I run is also a biker favorite. I love seeing the commutes to and from work but I run with two dogs and when a biker flies up behind us with no warning of the approach, it tends to scare the shit out of us! Not long ago Relic, one of my border collies, got hit by a bike. The guy was right up on us before he decided to yell out “on your right”. First, the path I was on was super open and wide on the left. Which is the side you’re supposed to pass on anyway. But no, this guy decided to go up onto the grass where Relic was running and proceeded to slam right into him. Thankfully, Relic was fine. The dude went ass over handle bars and was lucky he ended up with only a few scratches. I’m happy to share the road with bikes, scooters, one-wheels or whatever the mode of miles, but sometimes it seems like runners get no respect.

My biggest road rage is one of fear. I live in a city with a homeless problem. It makes me sad and I am sure that most are simply people down on their luck looking for a safe place to pitch a tent. But it’s not uncommon for me to run by the obvious tweaker. Once I even ran by a guy who quickly hid his machete behind his back as I got close. Last week there was the guy with five very large dogs tied to a tree that seemed eager to bust free of the thin ropes holding them back. And don’t even get me started on the trash. What could be a beautiful, riverside path, is littered with hard knock life.

I’ll keep running road no doubt. And I’ll keep saying good morning and dodging bikes. But there’s no doubt that I belong in woods.