Counter-clockwise

Thursdays are counter-clockwise, I know this to be true.

The indoor running track at my local Y has designated that runners should run counter-clockwise on Thursday and Friday, clockwise on Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday. Saturday and Sunday have directions as well, but I rarely run at the Y on the weekend, so I don’t know them.

I think the reasoning behind changing directions is to save wear and tear on the joints. The track is slightly slanted at the corners and running on this uneven portion probably grinds one’s knees disproportionately. If we didn’t change directions occasionally, we’d eventually end up lopsided, only able to run along the sides of hills like mountain goats. Instead, we change directions, grinding our knees evenly and gradually getting shorter. Of course, all of this only works if you run on the right days. I don’t know how they decided to assign the directions the way they did. I’m sure it was arrived at after an in-depth study of the running habits of a large sample set of members. Or, maybe someone just made it up after realizing that changing directions every day wouldn’t work since many members run every other day. At any rate, I typically run on Tuesday and Thursday so the system works for me.

Last Thursday, as I stretched before my run, I noticed a woman walking clockwise around the track. I stretch right next to the board where the direction signs are posted so I glanced quickly to make certain they hadn’t been updated. No, Thursday was still counter-clockwise. Next, I double-checked my mental calendar and assured myself that it really was Thursday. I was standing near the door for exiting the track and, as the woman approached, I hoped she would leave. Alas, she strolled past the door, intent on walking another illegal lap. As she passed me, I made a small production of staring at the directional arrows. I studied them as if they were the Mona Lisa, hoping she might feel compelled to check out what I found so interesting. She ambled on.

I stretched some more and felt myself becoming annoyed with the woman. The “don’t make waves, go with the flow” part of my personality was telling me that maybe I should run clockwise as well. The track is fairly narrow and going the same direction meant we would cross paths less often. The “we have rules for a reason” part of my personality was adamant that Thursdays were meant to be counter-clockwise lest we all become lopsided. I stewed and stretched some more. Finally, the “don’t go out of your way to look like an idiot” part of my personality noted that I’d be running for at least 30 minutes. During that time, the woman would likely finish up and leave the track. At that point, I’d be alone, running the wrong way on a Thursday, like a fool. I set out counter-clockwise.

The woman gave no indication of surprise or care as I approached and passed her on the track. We met often over the next few minutes. Finally, she stepped off the track near the exit. I noticed her studying the directional arrows before leaving, perhaps finally realizing her faux pas. As the door closed behind her, I felt my mood improve. Order was restored to this little part of my world.