Just got back from an hour-long jog through the streets of San Francisco. There are few better ways to truly discover a city than to run though it; the freedom of your feet allows you to explore nooks and crannies unreachable by bikes, let alone cars.
Running through a city at random can also expose you to some, shall we say, "wrong parts of town." Experienced this in Atlanta, Downtown L.A. and here about 30 minutes ago. Faithful FOPs may ask:
How does one actually know
they're in a so-called
"wrong part" of town?"
Well, here's the rule of thumb, courtesy of this modern-day marathoner of a Margaret Mead:
If some of society's sketchiest characters
are Surprised to see you in their 'hood
and look at you as if YOU were crazy,
then you know you're in the
"wrong part" of town.
Another public service provided from your friends at Pow!