I usually run at the local velodrome. The sloped walls and smooth floor are more conducive to my average mile time: 1 minute.
But they had to take the velodrome to the shop and so I found myself running at the covered track at the rec center, where I post much more realistic and underwhelming times.
I immediately noticed to small girls running what could only be characterized as amok. "Fine," I told myself. "They are of no concern to you" I further told myself in my best Emperor Palpatine voice.
I flew around the track at sub-world record pace when I suddenly turned I blind corner and saw those same two girls. Playing. Hiding out of sight. Volleyball in hand. Precocious. If I had run into them at speed, they would've had to build a memorial statue for all three of us. "Look out!" I shouted [told them]. Bits of plaster shook down from the ceiling and cracks appeared in the half inch thick storm glass lining the track. Even though, like the mighty Thu'um of the Nords my shout had knocked the little girls back several yards, they landed on their feet, undeterred. Their eyes narrowed to slits and they continued playing with their volleyball as I thundered past them. Each footfall cracked the surface of the track like arid desert soil.
Laps being what they are, I knew I'd run into them again and by God I hoped I would because I was ready this time. I knew they would be hiding around a blind corner with their legs all out in the track and being all, childish and unattended. I also knew that if this happened, the printing presses at all major dictionaries would be thrown to a stop as they frantically attempted to redefine the words "browbeating" and "pointless lecturing". I wasn't disappointed.
They were there! Covering five yards with every stride I closed on them quickly and, deftly manuevering between the traps they had laid out I bellowed "You guys gotta move." Only in my head there were exclamation marks at the end!
Knocked flat on their asses! Is what would have happened if I had done anything to effect that happening. Instead, they sulked off the floor and sulked over to the door, which they then sulked through.
I continued running, buoyed by the joy you can only feel by being a buzzkill grownup. To be able to bend the wills of others so effortlessly... it's like a drug.
Only thank God they weren't teenage boys 'cause otherwise I would have had to ask the lady at the desk to ask them to stop fucking around.