Girl invited me to go for a run today. I eagerly agreed, since I’m a semi-professional long-distance runner.

I arrived at the meeting spot, of course, 20 minutes early, wearing my Hoka and compression socks, post light warm-up, resting heart rate 42. She showed up 5 minutes late, wearing H&M leggings and some casual walking shoes from a REI.

I suggested a classic 12 km training loop at conversational pace (4:40/km), but she said she doesn’t “run that much” and just wanted to do a couple of laps around the park. Alright, I thought, let her have it.

We started easy. My watch showed 6:30/km pace, heart rate in Zone 1, basically active recovery. After 500 meters, she said she needed to walk because she’s “not quite in shape yet.”

I suggested some high knees and a few strides, and she asked if I “take this all seriously.” She chatted about Netflix shows while I analyzed my Garmin Connect data.

After 1.8 km, she said that was her max and asked if we could sit on a bench. We sat. She was sweating like she’d just run a marathon, I was cooling off with an electrolyte drink, heart rate back down to 45.

She said it was “great, so nice you didn’t run too fast.” At the end, she asked if she could tag me in a TikTok with #RunningDate. I said I don’t use TikTok—it messes with sleep patterns.

I blocked her when I got home. Then ran 15 km at tempo pace to clear my head. Crying, but in Zone 2.