Five minutes into my first jogging experience and I could already see why black men can't jog in public, and this had everything to do with the pedestrians on the street.
Please bear in mind that yours truly is a white-washed latino who looks like he's 12, and even then I could feel several pedestrians looking back at me in paranoia as I ran towards them--and I feel this was simply because I wasn't an octogenarian white male or a white chick with bouncing ponytail and boobs.
...and honestly I was tempted to grab at a few purses along the way simply as a force of habit.
I think a jogging black man would attract more attention than a hovercraft gliding down Times Square, which is unfortunate because the exercise felt pretty good.
I was self-conscious about my appearance. Would I appear as a jogger? Would people be convinced I was exercising, or simply running from something? Would they all laugh at me?
Whoever says exercising is as simple as running outside must be ignorant as to the preparation that awaits first-time runners, vis a vis the sheer amount of shit to keep in mind when purchasing running material.
1 black and red pair of running shoes
1 pair of black pants that are anti-sweat
1 pair of sweat reducing blue socks
and the rest I scoured for in my pre-existing wardrobe, such as the long sleeve shirt I use to run, and the bright red baseball cap that matches my shoes.
I believe that whatever you put on your head is what defines you as a jogger, either a headband, or in my case, a jolly red cap, this makes or breaks your jogger status, and I felt like a "runner" in my get-up.
Needless to say that I lasted 20 minutes and felt like death afterwards, but it is a start.
On a related note, here is my critically acclaimed essay on the Life of Jesse Owens: Great American Zero.