they’re buying and selling
off shares of air
and you know it’s all around you
but it’s hard to point and say “there”
so you just sit on your hands
and quietly contemplate
your next bold move
the next thing you’re gonna need to prove
— the prophet ani
I spend a lot of time worrying about my form when I run. Keep arms low, pump as pistons straight ahead, don’t allow them to cross your body. Hands closed but relaxed. Efficiency is everything.
Then I get my race photo back, and there it is.
My right index finger is sticking out.
I’ve always run that way. I have no idea why. The left hand is fine. The left hand is the poster child for running, although you don’t see that many children’s hands on running posters. Whatever. But whenever I run, it’s only a matter of time before the right index finger pops up.
When did this happen? How long have I been doing this?
And then I saw it. The first known photo of Baby Gary.
I was in little league running past first base (yes, I likely tripped and fell.) I’m in a full sprint. And there it is. The right index finger is extended.
Apparently I’ve always done it. 58 years later, I guess it won’t stop.
The obvious solution? Mittens. The obvious problem? South Tejas not the best place for multiple layers.
So if you see me running toward you and I’m giving you the finger, don’t be alarmed. Just think, “he’s weird.”
You might have a point.