spandex afternoon.

Two weeks into my time here, and I could not say more about my experience. I have found that studying abroad has already done more than open my eyes to a new way of life. It is helping me realize the things that I take for granted. For me, a few of these things are boxed macaroni and cheese, the word vitamin being pronounced correctly, free nights and weekend cell phone minutes and the Elon gym 30 seconds from my dorm room.

In mourning of my home gym, I decided to go on a run today. Decked out in my cold-weather tight spandex pants and track jacket I headed down to the canal near our flat for a nice run on the tow path.

At first everything was lovely. The placid water was broken only by the gentle bobbing of a duck. A pair of cyclists pedaled leisurely along side one another. The sun was almost warm and the wind was slight. All that I could hear was the rolling murmur of the water and the repetitive cadence of my running shoes. I'm sure you get the picture -- it was beautiful.

I was soon confronted by the end of the tow path, so decided to head around a couple of blocks before circling back to the flats. I felt adventurous for venturing into uncharted territory (can you tell where this story is going yet?) I started out on a side street with the intention of taking the first left, after which I planned to take another left and end up back at the canal. Good idea, right? In most circumstances, I would have been fine, but in London they don't believe in city blocks. Apparently angled roads, dead ends and alleyways were all the rage in the 1800s. And all this time I thought all they cared about gold, tea and world domination!

My plan to take lefts turned out to be a disaster! Instead I found two dead ends, had to jump a fence to get on the sidewalk, ran through a outdoor market, nearly got killed by a double-decker tour bus, and, I kid you not, got chased for about 30 second by a loose dog. Really, I am not making this up.

I wound up at Paddington Station -- one of the biggest transportation hubs in London. Now it is one thing to be running through a neighborhood in spandex. But it is an entirely different matter to be in the center of 100 people, trying to cross the street in spandex. All I could do was keep running, because it just doesn't get much worse than walking in spandex. I convinced myself that if I kept running they might not notice how out of place I was among the Marks & Spencer clad swarm of young professionals.

I heard a couple guys whistle. But mostly people just starred. I kept reassuring myself that I would never see these people again. Oh please God, never again.

Thirty minutes later, with amazing luck (and utilization of my internal compass), I found my way back to the canal. Fueled on embarrassment, I sprinted home, thus completing one of the fastest runs I have ever taken. Good exercise, indeed. I guess I can continue on without my beloved gym.

Lesson Learned: Always look at a map and plan out a route before venturing into the world in spandex pants.