So there I was, jogging along a frosty country lane mostly frequented by dog walkers on account of the fact that it ends in a footbridge and is largely free of traffic, when I was met by a man in a van, coming towards me. The cheerful agricultural type who was driving stopped his van and asked me how far I'd gone. I shouted cheerily back that I'd only done 2 miles and had 12 more to go. He, by return, asked me if I was cold, because if I was, I could come in his van to warm up. I laughingly declined saying that I was warm enough, and jogged off, thinking how kind these country folk are. The further I ran, though, the more I thought how strange the offer was. Of course, he could've been genuinely concerned for my health. On the other hand, he could have taken a shine to the figure that I cut in my running tights. Thankfully (hopefully) I'll never know.
