Flying My Freak Flag High

I am back running, with time being my only constraint. "Today" (as is my custom, my today has gone into tomorrow) I anticipated a 7-mile run. I was prepared with 2 layers of running tights and 3 good layers of shirts, over which I wore my thick Nike running jacket that I obtained for $42 at a Kohls sale. It was the only running jacket on the rack and was my perfect size. The find was so great that Angels danced, right in Kohls, as they sang my name with a Nike chorus in the background. The jacket is my best friend this winter, similar to the wool pea coat that I cannot get my teen daughter to remove. I believe she may sleep in the pea coat, which we obtained recently on clearance at American Eagle, where Angels also danced at the find. She in her pea coat, me in my black Nike winter running jacket...we understand one another on a level that only mothers and daughters can.

I had exactly 1-hour-and-15-minutes to run. On a mission, I bid adieu to my computer and sped towards my running destination, an asphalt paved path which seemed to never end. I parked in an elementary school lot, hoping that me in my batman belt would not be mistaken for a loony with a bomb belt, as these are modern day considerations. I wore 2 sets of running gloves with a pair of Hinds mittens over them because I have Reynauld's Syndrome and when my extremities lose heat, it can never be gained. I needed to type on my computer after the run, and dial my phone, so I needed my fingers today.

Placing an under armor running sock hat on my head, adjusting the iPod, then locating the satellites, I was off to the races. I ran as fast as my legs would carry me. I had the run timed perfectly so that I would keep my schedule.

My shoe came untied and I wasted 5-minutes trying to tie it without removing my hand covers. "Hells bells" I thought, as I surrendered to my inability and jeopardized my fingers in the cold. It only took a minute to lose all feeling in my fingers. Because I had stopped in the cold, my toes also began to get cold, another concern of mine. I try to avoid losing all feeling in my toes by keeping my blood moving. It is not always easy, but I have become almost an expert at managing my blood flow to the toes. I won't surrender my toes in the battle.

Come to think of it, I won't surrender anything in the battle. I won't give an inch. If I am to lose a battle, or even The War, it will have to be taken from me with energy. I understand that everyone at some point loses a battle or The War, and I am prepared to lose mine, but it will be with energy, and not with resignation.

So I ran to spite my toes and fingers. I'd show them. I hobbled like a toeless misfit searching for a purpose, until I felt the warmth return. My fingers, likewise, began to show life.

It was time to turn around.

I headed southbound on the path and within seconds it felt my face was being slapped by the devil himself. There was a cruel and stinging north wind blowing in my face I had not anticipated. In my hurry to get to my run, I did not check the weather stats, which left me entirely unprepared. I was 2-miles from my car.

I sped up, which triggered an asthma attack. This happens to me when I run in the cold without my inhaler or a cover over my face. If I caved to the asthma, that meant giving up my trusted and loyal soldiers on the front line: my toes and fingers. I ran through the asthma, reasoning that I was at least on a busy road, and that I had my Road ID on my tennis shoe. I weighed the options of the wager and placed my bet on running as fast as I could back to my car.

My Road ID gives me lots of courage to make irrational decisions. I once ran alone under a dark bridge in spite of 2 very unsavory characters waiting underneath, because "I have my Road ID". It not a death wish, but rather, a life fantasy of invincibility. My Road ID makes me Uber-Runner, in a way cloaking devices work for the Romulan.

And so it goes that me, a 43-year-old, female, spectacle-of-a-runner, ran into the north wind, gasping for air, while slightly hobbling and curling her fingers inward...I appeared to have been slapped repeatedly by some evil perpetrators across the face. With snot all over my nose and my mittens, I made it to the car in time to drive to pick up my 5th grader at school and transport her to volleyball practice.

As I was dumping her out of the car so that I could return to my computer and finish my work, she told me that she forgot her tennis shoes. I traded my sacred running shoes, with Road ID and Garmin Foot Pod, for a pair of cushy, suede Uggs, which are upper calf boots. She balked at the pod, telling me it was "too embarrassing" to have on her foot. It took me an eternity to untie the pod because I had no feeling in my fingers.

Forgetting my condition, I stopped into the dry cleaners and drug store on my way back to the computer. I got stares from men and women. I could not understand why. Lately I have gotten many stares from men when I wear my running tights in public. Being a recovering emotional retard and a newby to the Thin and Energetic Universe, it took me a while to figure out why. It was a 11 p.m. in a grocery produce section that I finally realized I could not wear the tights on such missions.

Problem is, in my rush today, I forgot that I was wearing my tights when I chose to run my errands this afternoon. In the line of the drug store, I self-consciously looked down, and remembered the tights. I searched for a tear, for sure that this was the source of the gender-blind stares.

It was then I realized that I was flying my Freak Flag high with the Uggs and running tights. I looked like a 43-year old, stay-at-home-stripper, who longed for the glory days of 5th Grade. Even the toddler twins behind me in line stood still and stared at me. I feared I might scare them if I tried to explain to the adults what was going on with me at that moment. I couldn't tell the toddlers that I was Santa's helper because Christmas was over.

I had exactly 1-hour to get home, finish my research and writing, and get back to the volleyball parking lot. I made it in time, as I always do. I hoped I would not be pulled over by the Po-Po for speeding while wearing the Uggs and tights. I imagined myself standing outside of my car while k-9 search dogs explored my car for contraband and drugs, as neighbors and friends whizzed by and honked at me holding my freak flag.

I did trade the Uggs for a pair of running shoes before returning to pick up my volleyball girl, because I save my embarrassing clothes for my teen daughter.

"Today" I know this: I came and I conquered. I ran the good run, through the obstacles and beyond. The lesson remembered is that we are nothing, if not but a scripted line in The Great Divine Comedy. Today was just my day to play the lead.