As I make the right turn towards the wudaoko subway station a bead of sweat slips off my forehead and hits the tip of my nose. Today is a warm day and it feels like summer is hanging on by a thread. Or a drop as it were. As I make that right turn I notice a young man – late 20s or early 30s – dressed in a baby blue adidas track suit. You know the kind with the matching top and bottom that used to be in vogue when my generation was in vogue and me personally was decidedly not in vogue. I’m not sure why i noticed him, foreigners in that part of Beijing in the late summer of 2009 are not an unfamiliar site. The track suit, yea, it was a little extreme but there are others wearing more extreme. Maybe it was he was crunching into a Big Mac at the time my eyes noticed him. In any case, I made my right and headed east.

My body was feeling heavy on this day. A day when I thought I would should be feeling stronger and faster. My feet were sore, I was thinking I should slow down. But even in this slog of a run, the runner’s “high” started to kick in and it make me want to run more. Run past the subway station. Past the new mall with their new stores and new restaurant. Past the place I used to turn right and back to the office on my “long” runs. But I just kept going, pass the big bus stops and passed the north exit of the big university. And then I was at another corner where I used to go right but I decided to keep going east. To make a six miler out of my day. And at this corner that I did not go right was another McDonalds. And sitting at the counter looking out the window was that same young man in that same addidas track suit. He appeared to be sipping a milk shake. A chocolate shake I imagined. I was trying to figure out how he could have made it here or if my mind was playing some trick on me. Maybe he wasn’t the same guy, that there was some kind of group thing were people dressed this way. A common job, or school club, or band. But I was sure it was that same exact guy in the same exact track suit. Maybe he had taken a bus or taxi to meet someone and decided he should have ordered the shake after all. Maybe he took the food with him and he just continued eating it at the McDondalds near his destination. There strange fantasies continued to power my slugging body down the street.

Ten minutes later, I made it to as far east as I was going to go and headed south. I was really into my run now, runner’s high in full force. Striding long, confident, and hard. I almost didn’t see the McDonalds arches until I was past them and then I glanced back at the window. Man in track suit, chomping frys. As my eyes got wide I could swear I saw a hint of recognition in his. This was starting to get truly weird.

No logical explanation that I could accept made sense, so I just continued to run. Right at the corner I needed to turn right. Only a mile and a half until I make it back to the office. But I started to remember the McDonalds about half way there. I started to get nervous. What if the man was still there. Stalking me. I decided right then I would confront him, demand to know what he was doing. I felt good about it, confident. As I got close, I steered my way toward the McDondalnds, slowed down to a walk, and when I got to the front…he wasn’t there.

I was already committed to going in or looking like a fool so I walked in thinking I would pretend to order something. I was sweating pretty hard by this point from the run and my nerves. Inside now I looked around and didn’t see him. I stood in line thinking what I would eat if I could. Quarter pounder, large fries, large chocolate shake I decided. When it was my turn to order, I left the line to the bemusement of the cashier. As I walked towards the gate the restroom door opened and the man in the track suit appeared, his face wet with water, his hair pulled back.

He looked at men and asked why I was following him.

I ran away and he did not pursue me.