I don’t think anything of it when I leave my house. I put in my earbuds, turn up the music, try to convince myself that I am in my 30s and I start jogging. My four-mile loop takes me out of my immediate neighborhood, past the Catholic Church and cemetery, and through the neighborhood lining the golf course. A little over a mile into my run I turn a corner and start running on sidewalks in front of houses, the majority of which are more expensive than mine.
