Deez. Right here.
I started my day by going for a quick run and spending a bit of time with Red Rocket, per Coachie’s instructions. As I was bringing RR back into my room, I saw a couple in the elevator. I greeted them cheerily.
“I’m resting my legs for tomorrow.”
Clearly, this is an appropriate response to “Good morning!” Dude. Ain’t nobody ask you about your legs. Unless your name is Coachie, I’m pretty sure I can do without your thoughts on what I’m doing with my legs. However, I just smiled and bid him good day.
This took ovaries.
You see, there were a lot of ways I could have responded. For one, I could have given him a myriad of options for alternatives with his legs, such as using them to walk off of a cliff. That’s restful, no? Blah. God don’t like ugly. Even when it’s witty or clever, apparently. It would have been more typical of me to hear what he said and start to go inside my own head.
Maybe this was a bad idea. What if he’s right? What if I’m doing too much? What if I need to go to sleep at 9:30 AM? What if because I was on my feet for 20 minutes I can’t finish the race? Why am I here? Where’s Chopin?
Poor joker. He said that because seeing me made him question whatever decision he had made for himself. I didn’t do anything except say good morning! I’s just a girl with mah bicycle and a grin, y’all. I doubt he was intentionally trying to make me go nuts in my head, but it could have happened.
It takes ovaries to get here. It might take even more to believe that you should be here once you are here. It takes the most ovaries to be positive toward others, no matter what you are feeling.
Dude. I hope you have a good race tomorrow. That being said – you could use some ovaries.