So, I just got back from a run- and I must admit, I kicked some butt. Puppy butt to be exact. Charlie has finally been defeated.
To be fair, I guess I should start with my definition of running. I don't want anyone picturing me clad head to toe in lycra, planning out my route based on the maximum muscle burn. I don't use a heart monitor and (just our little secret) my water bottle is tainted with Coke Zero. Are you kind of getting the picture now? My "running" is kind of a fast walk, slow to medium jog thing. I'm just going to lay it out for you- due to a lapse of judgement fueled by low self esteem in my late 20's I'm now sporting a pair of coconuts that make Charo look like a prepubescent....... boy.
So, I'm not exactly built for speed.
Ok, so I just got back from a run... and, while running, my mind started to wander. I know that is shocking..but ...true. I wonder why it is that during my everyday normal life I notice things like puppies and old ladies and flowers. And I LOVE them. Truly, in my heart of hearts, I LOVE them. I imagine myself kissing the puppy and walking the old lady across the street with the flower perfectly poised in my hair.
But strap on some running shoes, a tank top and my iphone ...... I am a different woman. You better watch yourself if I am getting my Eminem on. I am like a beast.
I'm just saying.
The reason I run, in addition to trying to keep some perk in the hiney, is to clear my mind. I am totally and completely focused on the task at hand in every aspect of my life- except for this alone time. For me, it is a blessing and a form of expression that allows me to think randomly.
Today, on this run, I can't stop thinking about the little boy I wrote a motorcycle policy for at the very end of the day. He was adorable. 23 years old, just bought a 1984 Triumph 760cc bike. I have no idea what that means. I only know I am worried for him. While I am a girl-Mom, I have always wished I was a boy-Mom too. I have such a soft spot for the stinkier breed. :)
He walked into the office at 5:27 pm. Three minutes before I should have been walking out. He had his helmet in his hand. Decorated with that obnoxious booby girl symbol that is most often spotted on tractor trailer mudflaps. I know you know her. She may be partially to blame for my double D debacle. He saw my eyes looking at her and he put his jacket over the whole helmet and set it on the floor. He smiled a big cheesy grin and announced "I just bought this bike myself and I need to get insurance".
How sweet are you? You bought it yourself? Freaking adorable.
I was actually feeling proud of him- like it was my job as the Mom-of-the-minute to compliment him on being a big boy now. I just wanted to pinch his little cheek.
I resisted, as that could have been interpreted as creepy, and we went about the business of writing insurance. As I'm asking him the practical questions, he's interjecting- more about what a grown up he is- his job, his education...and his BIKE. I know that he was 23 because I had to ask his date of birth. I'm telling you, he looked like he was 14. He could have been my baby, for heaven's sake.
We got through the application and he took out his cash (he's getting a checking account next week- darling!) paid for his policy, signed on the dotted line...snatched up the booby girl and off they went.
Before he got to the door I said "You're going to be careful, right? No standing up, no popping wheelies? You won't ride between cars, or after you've had even one drink, right?" He giggled. Like little boys giggle.
"No, Maam, I won't".
"OK, because your Mom wants you to come home safely tonight- and there are people who love you that want you to be safe".
"Yes, Maam, I know".
"OK then- have a nice evening".
He went right to the parking lot in back and I followed him out going left to my car parked a few blocks away. I got to the crosswalk wondering - Did I say enough? Does he just think I'm a nutty insurance agent old lady? AM I a nutty insurance agent old lady? Then he rode up next to me on the street and lifted his little face flap.
"Um, hey, thanks for the reminder about being safe. 'Preciate it".
Yeah! I'm not nutty. Fruity, maybe :)
And it made me think.... we all want someone to watch over us. All need a little love. The human condition has us constantly seeking acceptance, but constantly denying that we need it. I decided a long time ago to say what is on my mind. To not get to the end of my life having regrets for holding back the things that fill people up or help them on their way- even if it makes me the oddball sometimes. For all I know that kid could be making fun of me at a frat party tonight.
Or maybe... he didn't take a risk he was going to take. Maybe he slowed down a little, or decided not to race a sportscar in traffic. I don't know. Maybe he forgot he even met me.
But I know I spoke up. I know I stood in for his Mama, who probably doesn't even know her son bought that bike.
It is my most sincere prayer that someone will do the same for me.
Jesus was in the business of standing in the gap. While we were but His enemies, he went to the cross for us.
It is possible, that the closest I will ever get to being a gap-stander is nagging a kid about obeying traffic laws. I'm Ok with that. God can and does work through anyone.
Even large breasted, reading glasses wearing, dog lip kissing insurance agents.
AKA- Runners. :)
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