ILK AND INKLING

Spent much of Monday morning in the bowels of Omaha, 16th & Capitol, the IRS office.  No numbers on the door, nothing tipping a hand except the 7′ tall young Clyde Drexler 6% body fat look alike, hatches battened with all manner of irritating to lethal security swag, unchallenged forever.  Me meekly asking if this was the place, the lilt in his reply revealing a happier, less foreboding inside.

Number 851, have a seat.  Ah yes, here are truly my ilk.  All religions, stations and complexions, in the same shoes with different perplexions.    In the Land of The Man.  Uncle Sam.  Big Brother.  They know everything about everybody or easily find out.  But you won’t see me out running with a colander or aluminum foil on my head.

Now for the lighter side!  The USA Masters 8K Road Championships are this weekend in Brea, CA.  The pancake flat, fast course should yield some eye popping times.  A glimpse at status of entries prompts a tale of course:

In 2010 I took Linda and Stacy Shaw to the USA Masters Half Marathon National Championships in Mellbourne, FL.  Got to see the last night launch of the Space Shuttle as bucket list gravy.

We’d been in the hotel only a short while when Linda headed off to the restroom, returning shortly with her new friend, Joanna.  Legs up to thar and obviously fit I figured her for an age group favorite, and at age 53 she did indeed win the 50+ national championship in 1:33:29.

A while later Linda revealed to me that Joanna was formerly an Olympic Trials qualifier from Canada.  And that she was transgender.  I had not an inkling.

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