I am a bit vain
A young lady came up to me before the race this morning and asked where she knew me from. Yeah, yeah, “do I know you from somewhere?” Whatever. Actually she did sort of look familiar, but we couldn’t find any common references. I talked to her about what I like about my running club (the host of the race), which is, for one thing, the diversity of runners. We have six-minute milers and sixteen minute milers. Most of the races have teenagers and septuagenarians.
She looked at me and said, “yeah, but I don’t see very many people our age.” I looked at her face, wondering if I’d misjudged her age. Many California women are remarkably well-preserved, and I find myself unconsciously forgiving of many of the signs of age that I’m showing. She must have caught my quizzical look, because she asked how old I am.
“I just turned thirty-six.”
“Oh, sorry” she said. This woman is twenty-five years old and had come to this particular run because it was near her dorm at SF State.
“No, no, no…thank you!” I said, “You just made my day.”
She crossed the finish line almost seven minutes before I did. She was the eighth fastest woman out there today. I was the sixty-sixth fastest man. But if she thought I was “her age” oh I like that plenty.
