Let Your Freak Flag Fly

Part I. Here's an early morning text I sent to a dear friend:


"Thought for the day: Let your freak flag fly." 


(There is a Part II to this text, but that's the next post.)


I'm not sure who coined this phrase, but I wish it was me. Be yourself with all your warts. Be pleased with who you are. Let yourself shine. There's only one you. But I digress....


I run. I'm not graceful or fast or even good. I run for sanity, for belief, for accomplishment. I'm working something out. I'm not sure what. But when I run, it becomes clear. That which I didn't understand, is suddenly no longer a struggle. The world, in all her glory, gives me gems -- cash and prizes -- along the way. I take them. I give some back.  Here, I shall record some, share some, leave some, take some, bare some, and keep quiet about some.


Run -- I use it loosely, meaning only something faster than a walk. I'm not speedy by any means. Slow and steady wins the race in my book.  I've seen pictures of me running. I look ridiculous. Running is prime breeding grounds for humility for this girl. In the last few years, I've logged probably close to 2,000 miles running. It's not a lot by many standards, but it's a lot to me. And it proves to me that, one step at a time, I can travel great distances.


My taking to the road was merely a means of escape from a house full of kids. It was the only quiet, the only alone time I had. It's transitioned into a spiritual practice for me. It's allowed me access to parts of myself that were covered and hidden -- that ARE covered and hidden. I'm so grateful for the lessons of the road and the trails. I'm thankful for a capable body free of injuries that carries me to so many different places. I'm so appreciative to live in one of the most beautiful locations on the planet, an area that loves to showcase her beauty in a way that feels like she's doing it for me and me alone. I'm thankful to the angels in my life who see fit to litter my path with treasures. It's a relief to know that those souls are so close to me, to us. It's so comforting to be looked after by this universe in so many unexpected ways.


I am the almost-40-ish woman out there with the pigtails, singing at the top of her lungs while she runs, randomly stopping to hock a loogie or break into a brief and inexplicable dance or stretch in a prayer of thanksgiving.  


It's out there on the road that I actually let my freak flag fly.