Of house wives, drag queens and fitness champions...
I run along the Mississippi on either West Bank Pkwy or East Bank Pkwy (or both if its the 8-14 miler.) I also bike along this route 5-6 times a week for work.
On my runs when I'm lucky, I'm joined by two of my new favorite people, Paula and Justine, one tran-sexual and one very fabulous drag queen. When I'm not, I get glared at by anorexic or overweight house wives out trotting the trails just because-most of the time-I'm running in my shorts and sports bra. Now, despite the 18% body fat ratio- I do have some jiggle still. I'm not super skinny but I am well-defined and I do not hold bones on the fact that I don't look like a super-model. I do look like an athlete and I've worked hard to achieve this.
I suppose that is why I admire Paula and Justine. In a neighborhood where that vast majority of people who are running/walking are the NR housewives, there they are, in their little Nike running outfits, pounding away at the trail and offering a smile to everyone they meet. I think its because of these two wonderful ladies, that I am beginning to see more of the true fitness champs out on the trail. Folks who are out there doing the workout for a better life, not because they must fit into a mold dictated by status or the media but because they understand, maybe a little, that each day is a blessing and each and every moment is a chance to win the best smile from Justine or a shy 'hello' or 'good morning' from the girl in the running shorts and sports bra. We, the Spartans of the 'not-so-normal' society, are running for the chance to be a peace with ourselves, to say hello to eachother as we pass, to finish that next step and proclaim 'I did that and I will do more.'
Even when I'm confronted by my own inadequacies and failures, its these thoughts and moments I hold in my heart and know that if I were to disappear there would be one less smile on the trail, one less heartbeat tuned to a world where there is no you or me but us and the road.
I am many things: mediocre writer/poet, brilliant costume designer/seamstress, tried and failed musician, decent artist, inadequate co-worker, philosopher, dreamer, bi-polar fuck-up, priestess, dancer (even if only I can hear the tune), frightened little girl with a soul too old for one last go at life.
But the last thing I will be is a shadow of myself. Despite my fear, my breakdowns, I learned a long time ago to move on even if everyone around me doesn't.
So come run with me, Paula, Justine and the numerous others who society considers faceless in the crowd except for that one moment as we pass eachother, smile, say 'hello,' and see the sunrise in eachother's faces, forgiveness for all we've done, acceptance for all that we are and are not.
I promise you no masks, no costumes, no stages, no lights, no posturing for the crowds, no demands.
Just us and a moment to cradle when there is nothing outside but darkness and doubt. And that, my friends, is a Treasure without price.
On my runs when I'm lucky, I'm joined by two of my new favorite people, Paula and Justine, one tran-sexual and one very fabulous drag queen. When I'm not, I get glared at by anorexic or overweight house wives out trotting the trails just because-most of the time-I'm running in my shorts and sports bra. Now, despite the 18% body fat ratio- I do have some jiggle still. I'm not super skinny but I am well-defined and I do not hold bones on the fact that I don't look like a super-model. I do look like an athlete and I've worked hard to achieve this.
I suppose that is why I admire Paula and Justine. In a neighborhood where that vast majority of people who are running/walking are the NR housewives, there they are, in their little Nike running outfits, pounding away at the trail and offering a smile to everyone they meet. I think its because of these two wonderful ladies, that I am beginning to see more of the true fitness champs out on the trail. Folks who are out there doing the workout for a better life, not because they must fit into a mold dictated by status or the media but because they understand, maybe a little, that each day is a blessing and each and every moment is a chance to win the best smile from Justine or a shy 'hello' or 'good morning' from the girl in the running shorts and sports bra. We, the Spartans of the 'not-so-normal' society, are running for the chance to be a peace with ourselves, to say hello to eachother as we pass, to finish that next step and proclaim 'I did that and I will do more.'
Even when I'm confronted by my own inadequacies and failures, its these thoughts and moments I hold in my heart and know that if I were to disappear there would be one less smile on the trail, one less heartbeat tuned to a world where there is no you or me but us and the road.
I am many things: mediocre writer/poet, brilliant costume designer/seamstress, tried and failed musician, decent artist, inadequate co-worker, philosopher, dreamer, bi-polar fuck-up, priestess, dancer (even if only I can hear the tune), frightened little girl with a soul too old for one last go at life.
But the last thing I will be is a shadow of myself. Despite my fear, my breakdowns, I learned a long time ago to move on even if everyone around me doesn't.
So come run with me, Paula, Justine and the numerous others who society considers faceless in the crowd except for that one moment as we pass eachother, smile, say 'hello,' and see the sunrise in eachother's faces, forgiveness for all we've done, acceptance for all that we are and are not.
I promise you no masks, no costumes, no stages, no lights, no posturing for the crowds, no demands.
Just us and a moment to cradle when there is nothing outside but darkness and doubt. And that, my friends, is a Treasure without price.