This is a true story.
All stories are true.
It is my job to tell the truth.
Yesterday, I was in a very bad mood. In the afternoon, I went on a long run in the hills so I could think about all the things that were making me mad.
It was a long run.
Deer hunting season opened on Saturday.
A friend told me I am supposed to wear orange when I go running.
I said, why, they will shoot me anyway.
When I run into groups of men in camouflage, carrying deer rifles and shit, they usually have coolers of beer with them, too.
I am coming out of retirement as a runner.
I have run 30 full (26.2 miles long) marathons in my life. It has been a few years since my last marathon. On November 6, I am going to run a half-marathon. That is an embarrassing 13.1 miles. But I am coming out of retirement.
Over the summer, because I was bored, I ran about 10 miles every day. Now I run twice per day. I do 2 - 3 miles in the morning (at 4 a.m., when it is still very dark), and another 5 miles in the afternoon, when I am usually in a bad mood and need to run.
I live in a very remote area, which is why there are deer hunters here who will probably kill me.
There are no street lights, traffic lights, grocery stores... there is nothing here except guys with guns, camouflaged outfits, and alcohol.
There are no police, either.
So you might imagine how quiet and dark the world is when I am out, running alone, at 4 in the morning.
This morning, I ran past a house where a man had been shot five times by the police. That happened about two years ago. The man lived, too. He was despondent over losing his job, so he barricaded himself inside his home. As you can guess, he had plenty of guns and alcohol. So the police shot him five times. But he lived, and after he got out of wherever they put a despondent jobless guy with five bullets in him, he moved back to his house.
I mention this because when I ran past his house today at 4 in the morning, I heard a scream coming from inside the house.
One scream.
Long and loud.
It was a man's voice. It sounded like someone was being murdered, but who knows?
It was at least four seconds long, and on the anguish scale, it was a solid nine out of ten mousetraps on your balls.
So I thought, there is an inherent sexist bias in human reactions when you hear someone screaming in the middle of the night.
I thought, if I heard a woman screaming, I would have... I don't know... knocked on the door, or shit like that.
But when a man screams in the middle of the night up in guys-with-guns-camouflage-and-alcohol land, it's like... well, buddy, you are either going to live to see another hunting season, or you're not.
