Running from the cops was a way of life, and an end to boredom for me in south Minneapolis during the early to mid 80's. I had come to believe that I would never be caught because I knew my neighborhood much better than they did, and I was a spry, somewhat athletic teenager that had the energy levels of a star in it's supernova stage.
They knew who I was of course, as I was quite the trouble-maker back then, so eventually they learned to just wait for me at my home rather than chasing me through the back yards and alley-ways that I knew so well.
I may have been faster, but they were smarter.
I am in my late 30's now, and a reserve police officer, and am often asked to help chase down youths that have found their own boredom as overwhelming as I did some 25 years ago. I do what I am asked to do of course, but I sometimes find myself wishing I was that errant youth again, with the men in blue right behind me as my adrenaline pushes me to faster speeds and more dangerous stunts to avoid capture.
