He first started serious training about six months after he lost his job. He had been searching for work and collecting his unemployment checks and working around the house. But the fix-up chores were all done now. No jobs or even interviews for jobs had been found. His wife had left him and moved out to Denver to live with the boyfriend she had once left to marry him. So he started his training regimen. He started with stretching and calisthenics for a half hour early in the morning. Then he ran for at least an hour, alternating between long steady periods of about twelve minutes and then hard sprints for about two minutes. It was grueling. After four weeks of this hour and a half routine he increased the training time to two hours adding another half hour of distance running mixed with sprints. After eight more weeks and still no job offers, and with unemployment checks coming to an end soon, he increased his training time to three hours every day.
He started carrying a backpack weighted with books as he ran. The backpack was a well cushioned affair and it was strapped tightly so that the straps didn’t chafe his skin. He ran along the streets and roadways of the small city where he lived. He took careful note of the small side streets and alleys that made up the intricate web that connected neighborhoods with one another. He learned how it was possible to cross the whole city, a distance of about four miles from east to west, or about six miles north to south, in relatively straight lines without running on any major thoroughfares. He discovered paths along and lightly used bridges across the small river that wound through the area. He found ways through cemeteries and school yards, around shopping areas and government buildings. And his strength and stamina increased and his speed became greater and greater. His thirty year old well muscled body could run for four hours straight now. He could sprint a mile in just over four and a half minutes. And he was developing a plan.
As he ran he would wave to the police officers in their cars or on their motorcycles. When he ran through the old downtown area any walking policeman would be greeted with a smile and sometimes a few words. People all over town became accustomed to his presence. He was the Running Man. And as he ran he took careful note of the businesses all over town. He noticed the liquor stores and convenience stores. He noticed the banks and loan companies and the check cashing shops. When he wanted to pay particular attention to a business he would stop and adjust his backpack or re-tie his running shoes. As soon as he was in some inconspicuous place he would jot down notes about what he had seen.
Everyday, rain or shine, the Running Man ran. Like the fabled Native American messengers he could run easily for most of a day without feeling exhausted. And if he needed speed he could sprint like an Olympian in the hundred meter race. After his last unemployment check had been cashed and spent and he had started dipping into his meager savings he decided it was time to get to work. He went up to Philadelphia to one of the outlet malls and bought several brightly colored sweat suits, paying cash. He went to a different store and bought ski masks and baseball caps with no logo on the front. He bought three black backpacks all of decent quality and waterproof. Then he went to a toy store and bought a couple of cap pistols that looked like the real thing. He was ready.
On a Friday morning the Running Man started running. Inside his back pack was another back pack with a sweat suit, a ski mask, a baseball cap and a toy pistol. He ran one of his usual routes until he got to a secluded space between two old buildings. He ducked into the space, took out his hidden clothing and put it on. He put the toy pistol in his waist band and with a back pack in his hand he went around to the front of the old buildings onto the busy street. He entered the check cashing storefront with his ski mask pulled down over his face. He pulled out the pistol and demanded cash. The nervous and frightened woman behind the counter put stacks of bills into the backpack he pushed in front of her. He told the woman to lie down and count to one hundred or he would turn back and shoot her. As she started counting he ran out the door. By the time she had counted to twenty-five he had returned to the hiding alcove, stripped off the sweat suit and hidden the backpack holding the clothing and ski mask. By the time she had counted to seventy-five he had strapped on the backpack holding the cash and was sprinting away wearing his usual running shorts and t-shirt. As he ran past the central police station he noticed the cars racing out of the parking lot towards the downtown area. He waved.
When he got back to his home he showered and dressed and had lunch. It was only after he had eaten lunch and come down from his adrenaline rush that he opened the backpack and counted the money. Since it was Friday, a big day for the check cashing shop, the amount in the backpack was a healthy $20,312.00. The Running Man smiled and after looking at his budget plan for the year figured he was going to be okay at least until Christmas, almost six months away. Meanwhile he could continue his job search and his training regimen.
The months passed. The Running Man ran and exercised but he still could not find a job in his line of work in his hometown. He could have moved to where he knew some jobs were available. But he liked his home and he liked being able to run on the familiar streets and paths. As he ran he deepened his knowledge of hiding places and evasive paths. He had picked up the clothing he used in the check cashing robbery from its secure hiding place. It was time for another plan because Christmas was coming. He needed money because he now had someone to buy gifts for. As part of his job hunting routine the Running Man would go to the public library to look at the newspapers. Since he was on a strict budget he had cancelled his own subscription. It was there that he had met the young woman who ran the computer education service for the library. After a few weeks of brief encounters he had asked her out and she had accepted. They had gone to a movie and dinner. The next Saturday morning she had joined him on part of his daily run. He was a little uncomfortable having a running companion but he forced himself to relax and slowed his pace to accommodate her. He was careful to run only in the parks and purely residential areas. After their run they had lunch and spent some time talking about the techniques and equipment of their shared sport. By the end of the afternoon the Running Man hadn’t once thought about his ex-wife and he realized that he really liked the Library Lady. That was how he thought of each of them. He was the Running Man, she the Library Lady.
To have money for her Christmas gifts and for a few more months of supporting himself he decided he would do a really high grossing confiscation. Even though he knew he was stealing he now liked to think of his method of getting money as wealth redistribution or confiscating funds from the unworthy. He thought he was becoming a modern day Robin Hood. So he selected his next project very carefully. A branch of an international bank that had been part of the recent rounds of government bailouts was on a major street on one of his running routes. For a week he ran the route locating the hiding places and cross paths and alleys he might need. People on the route became familiar with him, some being amazed by his sudden bursts of speed as he would sprint off and disappear from view. Part of his route was patrolled by a policeman on foot and he took every opportunity to say hello, but also to watch the pattern of the cop’s patrol. Then he went to a different branch of the same bank to observe security procedures knowing that all the branches of the same company would follow standardized practices. Finally he took note of when an armored car would make the regular cash drop to the bank so that the funds on hand would be at the highest level.
The day came for the operation and the Running Man was a little nervous but fairly confident. He readied his change of clothes and his toy pistol. He had practiced his muffled and gruff voice, rehearsing the commands he would use. As he reached the hiding place he would use he slowed, made sure that he was unobserved and turned in. He got his sweat suit on, readied his ski mask and toy pistol and went around to the front of the building. He went into the bank with the ski mask pulled down and approached the young lady at the manager’s desk, showed his pistol and ordered her to stay away from the alarm button or he would shoot every one in the place. Then he told her they were going to fill his bag, making sure that no dye packed bills would get into the collection. Within three minutes he was out of the bank and racing to his hiding spot. He got out of the sweat suit, strapped on his back pack and continued to run one of his usual routes. By the time the first police cars arrived at the branch bank he was almost half a mile away and saying hello to a police officer walking near a park. Staying calm at that moment was the hardest part of the whole operation, but it was critical in establishing his presence. He then finished his running routine and returned to his home. The Running Man knew he had entered the world of big time crime as he counted the almost one hundred thousand dollars in his stuffed backpack.
That night he had dinner with the Library Lady at one of the nicer restaurants in town. He was careful to pay the bill with his credit card, knowing that there was a possibility that his new cash supply had serial numbers that had been recorded by the bank. He and his companion talked for a long time about life and love and the past and future. It was apparent to both of them that they were on a path to a place beyond friendship. The Running Man knew he had to find a way to stop his part time job of robbing banks. Secrets couldn’t be a part of the life he hoped to share with the Library Lady. Their evening ended at her apartment and the hours passed into the first morning that they woke up together.
Using and banking the money in his backpack became another challenge for the Running Man. He went to a local casino and fed a few hundreds into several slot machines. After a small amount of gambling he cashed out of the machines and then redeemed his tickets. He did this in the four casinos within sixty miles of his home every day for two weeks. He made deposits of a few hundred dollars at a time into three separate bank accounts. When an account would accumulate a balance of five thousand dollars he would transfer most of the money into CDs. The hardest part of the money laundering plan was being random enough so that patterns could not be detected by police and FBI investigators. He knew that they were working hard to catch the unknown bank robber but he still felt confident that he was well ahead of his pursuers. And he kept on running. At least twice in the two weeks after the robbery he ran past the scene of his last crime. On one of those runs he was stopped by a man in a dark suit, obviously an FBI agent, who asked him if he had seen anything on his run on that day a couple of weeks ago. The questioning was brief and it didn’t seem as if there was any suspicion in the eyes of the agent.
A few days after he was questioned the Running Man and the Library Lady were talking about some of the things that people in love, and with an eye towards marriage, will talk about. One of the topics that came up was morality and where the gray areas between right and wrong become either truly good or really evil. The question had arisen when the Library Lady noticed a pile of overdue books stacked on the Running Man’s desk. She saw that they were almost three months past the due date and she mentioned that she thought keeping books that long could be considered immoral. He disagreed with her and said that as long as he paid the fines, which he considered an act of atonement, then the evil, if there was one, was extremely minor. She said that keeping the books might deprive someone of a necessary part of research. Or, she said, at the very least it was a selfish act to hold the books, or it could be considered a breach of contract between the borrower and the library. The argument never got heated and was accompanied by joking and smiles. But the Library Lady was uncomfortable with the answers she was getting. She wondered how far the Running Man was willing to stretch the limits of right and wrong.
The following morning the Running Man went out for his run while the Library Lady, who was suffering from a bad cold, stayed in his house. She wasn’t a particularly nosy woman but the uneasy feeling that had crept into her mind on the previous night hadn’t eased by sunrise. So she started, in a methodical way, looking around the house. She looked at a few bank statements. She saw an orderly collection of black backpacks in a back closet. In a dresser drawer she found three cap pistols that looked like very real guns. In a kitchen cabinet she found a small notebook with diagrams and cryptic descriptions of places and people. And finally in the basement, under the stairs and covered with a padded blanket, was another backpack which, when she opened it, revealed cash in neat bank wrapped stacks. She counted twenty thousand dollars in twenties and ten thousand in tens. She was upset. She had really high hopes for a future life with the Running Man. She didn’t know what her next step should be, a confrontation with him or a call to the police. In the end she sat down and waited for the Running Man to run home.
When he entered the living room and saw the Library Lady sitting with her feet on the floor at the end of the sofa the Running Man knew that she had discovered his secret. She quietly and with little emotion asked him how much of the stolen money he had spent. Being an organized and somewhat compulsive person, he knew the exact amount. She took out her checkbook and wrote a check to him for that exact amount. She then told him that he had to plan a way to return all the money to the places he had robbed. She also told him that he needed to give back the interest that he had earned as a fine or perhaps as atonement. If he could do all that she would not call the police. And if he loved her, as he had professed the night before, then they would both find jobs in a different city and move away together. All of the things she said and did were done quietly without tears and without rancor or judgment in her tone of voice. And so he agreed.
It took a week to anonymously set things right with the robbery victims. When that was done they started their separate job hunts working together. The Running Man stopped running and took up bicycle riding. And the Library Lady returned all her long overdue library books.
The End
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