"Confusion"

I had to blow out the cobwebs this morning on the Lake Union Loop. My work commute is longer but the amount of walking I do each day is about a half-hour less. I am now a corporeal husk sitting on a train car. I've got the Top Pot Doughnut Dash 5K coming up at the end of the month. I have to be disciplined about my training this week. Then scale back next week in the lead up to the race. The Top Pot Doughnut Dash 5K is indeed a dash; it's pretty much a flat-out sprint around the oval of Green Lake.

As I was climbing Capitol Hill at the end of this morning's run listening to Fela's superjam from 1975, "Confusion, Pts. 1 & 2," I was hailed by a muscular young man wearing a tight Green Bay Packers jersey. He asked if I lived nearby. He smelled of alcohol, and he had dried pizza sauce or burrito juice smeared all over his face. I told him, yes, I lived on Capitol Hill. He asked if I had a cell phone charger; he said he was trying to call his friend who he expected was asleep in the Ben Lomond apartment building, the parking lot of which we were standing in. I told him I didn't have a cell phone charger but someone at Top Pot Doughnuts would. I asked if he wanted to walk with me. He said we could run. So I started to jog. He asked how far it was to Top Pot. I said two blocks over and one block up. As we jogged we talked about yesterday's hail storm, evidence of which was still visible on the streets, and Aaron Rodgers' Packers. I asked him if he liked the Seahawks. He said he didn't. I dropped him off at Top Pot. It was open but dark inside. There was one man with is little boy sitting at the front and someone working the cash register. I expected there to be more people. There usually are. The muscular young man wearing a tight Green Bay Packers jersey looked frightened as he approached the woman working the register. I hope she helped him.