And I’m a freak?

I’ve been running now for 18 years. During runs, I’ve been taunted in just about every way imaginable. If I hear anything about Forest Gump again, I swear, I’ll start puking like Reagan in the Exorcist. Yesterday, I’m getting in my miles and someone shouts “Hey, you freak!” Okay, no biggie. Right? Well, I looked over at my taunter and see that his face is covered in tatoos. There’s so many that the patch of uncolored whiteness stands out like a portwine stain. I’m a freak? I’m an object of ridicule? Makes me wonder what kind of town I live in (which I wonder on a daily basis as it is). I’ve gotta get out of here.


About glenkrisch

Writer, freelance editor, runner, family man, wanna-be farmer, neo-luddite
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1 Response to And I’m a freak?

  1. I haven’t been taunted yet, but I’ve had to avoided some psycho drivers. That comes with living in Peterborough where we have plenty of the two worst classes of drivers: students and the elderly.
    Good times.

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