Want to get a free ride to work?

Forget Citylink.

Put on some nice clothes and start running.

I've run to work on most winter days. It's just a mile and a quarter from my 19th Street home to The Press. So, like the Postal Service, whether rain, sleet or snow, I put on a pair of Nikes or Sauconys, head out the front door and hoof it. Doesn't take long. My record is somewhere in the 9-minute range. If I relax, cruise around the streets, stop to chat with neighbors, maybe 15 minutes.

I figure it's extra training miles, helps me burn calories, and saves gas money, to boot. That's win-win-win, in case you were counting.

But there have been days I haven't completed my run. Not because I decided not to go to work, turned around and went home, or got tired or just distracted and pulled into the 1210 tavern.

Because I got a ride.

We've heard of Bike to Work week, which is coming up soon. What about Run to Work week? Best part is, you probably won't even have to finish your run.

On at least five occasions, I've been offered rides. Not just from friends. We're talking complete strangers.

Last month, I was wearing a nice coat, slacks, carrying coffee, a duffel bag and talking on the cell phone as I ran down Mullan Avenue, when a woman pulled up, stopped and rolled down the window.

"Do you need a ride?"

Slight hesitation. Then, sure. Why not.

I hopped in. "Thanks. I appreciate it."

She figured that, dressed as I was, coffee in hand, my car must have broken down and I was running to make an appointment on time. So, being a Good Samaritan, she offered to help.

"No, I just run to work," I happily explained.

When I recounted the story later to my wife and others, they expressed surprise I would accept a ride from a stranger.

"You got in a car with someone you didn't know?" was the usual response.

Well, sure, I'm the trusting sort. I mean, what's going to happen?

So far, my trust has been rewarded, and I've been offered more rides.

A man, a carpenter by trade, stopped his older pickup and offered a ride a few weeks ago as I ran in jeans and a sport coat. Again, I jumped in.

In just a few minutes, he told me about his work (it's been slow), and a rotator cuff surgery he was scheduled to have. He, too, figured based on how I was dressed, that I must be late for work.

"I thought you might need a lift," he said.

More rides have been offered since.

A couple slowed the other day, rolled down the window. "Do you need a ride?"

This time, I actually refused, since I was almost to the Parkside Terrace building where my wife works, and I was planning to visit her.

"No, but thanks for asking," I said with a wave.

A man who lives down the street and has seen me running several times stopped, too, on his way to get coffee and thought I might need a ride.

"I see you sometimes and I can't tell if you're in a hurry or you just like to run," he said.

Another older gentlemen seemed very concerned for my well being one day, when I was running in the rain.

"You're getting all wet. You better get in," he said.

I did.

A friend, Jim Pearl, drove past me the other day while I was running near Seventh and Sherman. Ironically, he didn't offer me a ride, as he was going in the opposite direction and knowing I was a runner, he figured I would refuse, anyway.

Not so, Jim.

Always happy to accept an offer of kindness.

So, if you happen to see someone in a sport coat, wearing a shirt and tie, jeans and Nikes, carrying a cup of coffee and a cell phone, running down Mullan Avenue on a weekday morning, know this: He's not late for work. His car didn't break down. He didn't forget an appointment.

As Forrest Gump said, "I'm just running."

But I will stop, when asked, and accept rides.

Even from strangers.

Bill Buley is city editor of the Press. He can be reached at 664-8176, ext. 2016, or [email protected]