Go, you chicken fat, go away!

800 miles + on my shoes.  Time to retire them.  I think I will wear my neon yellow shoes next.  I woke up at 5am.  It's already getting light out.  By the time I was running it was completely light.  The sun was just about to come over the horizon.  I don't like that.  Anyway, I saw more people than normal.  One person was walking their dogs down in the bottom of the Floodway.  I wondered if they did that a lot, but I never saw them because it was dark.  Probably not.  As I was approaching Brown, I saw a zanjero truck pull up to the Canal.  I then turned around and saw the old man that thinks I'm his best friend.  He was running on the west side of the Floodway, and I thought for sure he would catch up to me before the fence.  He didn't.  But just barely.  As I ran toward him, he looked at me.  I could tell from his puppy dog eyes that he was sad that I was too far away to say anything to me.  He turned around and headed south.  The zanjero jumped out of his truck.  I didn't recognize him.  For sure he was putting a drop through.  I'm not even sure what that means.  That's what got me in trouble once.  I raised the radial gates instead of lowering them.  I kind of drained the top end of the Canal.  Oops.

I followed the old man down the RWCD road.  He kept putting more and more distance between us.  Within just over a mile, he must've put a quarter mile between us.  I'm slow.