Shhhh! You're Bothering the Locals
When I used to run with someone, I loved to talk. Not only did I get to dish and vent, but I moved faster as I did. It sounds counterintuitive, but my VO2 max seemed higher during conversation. On one run with a trio of friends in New York's Central Park, I warned in advance that I am faster when I talk. Midway through our route, I offered one of my convoluted stories requiring backgound asides, plot recaps, and a quick interruption ("Hey, was that Meg Ryan who just ran by us?!") Fifteen minutes in, just as I was getting to the best part, one of the women asked me to please stop talking. I thought she was upset at my storytelling and fell silent. Afterward, she explained between big breaths that I'd sped up to a pace she could no longer hold. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?" I asked. "No one could get a word in edgewise," she responded. My inability to notice everyone and everything (except, apparently, Meg Ryan) around me reflected poorly on...