I was out on a swift 5 miler one Halloween a few years back and ascending a steep hill when I heard the sound of breaking glass from a side-street up ahead. A group of kids emerged from the street and disappeared around a corner. I ran on, passing the entrance to the street. You can probably guess what happened. Broken window + running man = guilty party. Next thing, I'm being chased by a very irate householder. I stopped to explain, calmly, in moderate tones, between rasping breaths, that I was just "a jogger" (it was the early eighties). Then I spied an older man in the background, but getting closer all the time, carrying what appeared to be a carving knife. "Hurry up dad, we've got him" said man number 1. I think my training log said something like "5 miles with fast hill".