Exercising “Sound” Judgment

2013 has had me on somewhat of an inward looking kick, and I’ve felt more determined to understand the stupid, and often irrational workings of my inquisitive mind. When you really stop and consider all the things racing through your brain in any given day, or any given hour for that matter, it’s pretty intense. And in my case, it’s more telling than I’d perhaps liked to face. Let’s take a look-sie.

1:17pm – I found myself pulling into one of my favorite hike/trail running destinations, and snagging the last parking spot in a 15-space lot. I punched my fist upward through the sun-roof in celebration.  I’m the absolute best at getting parking spots!, I thought, feeling mostly great about life.

Hitting the trail and switching-on my trusty podcasters, I realized only one ear bud worked in my headphones. The worst. I scaled the mini-mountain, straining to hear of an apparent endemic sweeping the country called vocal fry - the Valley-girl manner of speaking, which is low, shaky and annoying. I tried to mimic it aloud while passing several hikers with unnecessary walking sticks. I judged them for needing hiking sticks on a trail flat enough for me to run. Whatever. I kept trudging along, arriving upon a group of women all craning their necks upward at the final sliver of the trail leading to the summit. Knowing my eyesight and the ridiculousness of even trying to make out what they were staring at, I breezed by the ladies and made my way directly into their visual trajectory. What if they’ve spotted a wild animal? A javelina, or Mountain Lion? Wouldn’t they alert a fellow hiker? Probably not, since women are vicious and I’m wearing my running tights. They make me seem even skinnier than I am.

1:45pm – On the summit and no wild animals to boot. I looked out at the endless horizon, and the expanse of the city spread all around me. Seemed hazy. I descented carefully at first, and then stretched it out into a jog. Hearing the pitter patter of my footsteps, hikers ahead would scoot to the right to let me pass. I’d exhale some form of a ‘thank you’ as I passed, except at the same group of unnecessary hiking stick folks, who scooted to the side and instead yelled “THANK YOU” to me as I passed. Whether they were mind readers or not, it fueled the duration of my run.

2:00pm – Driving back, my mind felt light, as it does often after a good workout. The weather was warm, and I embraced it by inviting the sun directly into my lap via the sunroof.  Tranquility. The breeze. NPR game shows. And a disgruntled minivan who cut me off! Maintaining my lifelong principle of showing bad drivers the errs of their ways, I sped up alongside the van to find a middle-aged woman with thick brown bangs, and a purposeful scowl. As I grimaced at this lady, she raised her eyebrow back my way, making it clear her conduct was intentional. Fury. Why is that acceptable behavior? Maybe she’s just having a hard day. Maybe she has had a hard YEAR, perhaps just gotten a divorce, or hates her job. At the least, she’s dissatisfied with her bang situation.

2:07 – I was greeted at the grocery store by a throng of little girls.

“Would you like to buy some Girl Scout cookies?” 

“No thank you. Not for me, ladies. But keep up the good work,” I encouraged.

I made a bee-line for the prosciutto, and I thought about turning down the girl scouts, and that maybe I owed them a bit more explanation. Something letting them know I supported them, but that I didn’t eat sweets. Or, that I was on a diet. Or that I was poor.  Or allergic. None of which came to fruition, since as I approached the deli, my eyes were met by the fierce gaze of a man wearing a hooded sweatshirt. His hood was up. I walked by him, feeling preyed upon, but not losing sight of my prosciutto prize. I snagged the last package - I’m awesome at getting parking spots, and bringing home the bacon! – and breezed back by the creeper. He didn’t bother to conceal his gaze this time, and used his head as an extension of the spectating, making sure to pivot precisely as I passed. I wondered if he was a registered sex offender.

2:17pm – Out the automatic doors, and past the Girl Scouts. Why throughout all these years has this organization not considered branching out beyond cookies? They might consider flowers, or gift cards, or something a bit more universally appealing.

…..

This exercise might cause one to surmise I’m a bit of a narcissistic jerk. Some of it comes with human nature. Much of it seems to be attached to my personality. None of it, I hope, should be irreparable. All of it will be forgotten by the setting of the sun, and the indulgence in red wine.