The Bridge Haunts Me: My Biggie Wars

Its been a month since I have been out of BK.

It hurts.

But not in the obvious ways.

See I was walking in 'Frisco on Wednesday, and right there
in a plain sight was a 2 by 4 poster of the BK bridge
and it was like I saw a ghost.

See. For a long time I had issues with living in my old neighborhood.

Class mobility hurts.

Fitting into new environs.

Being mistaken for a cleaning lady or a nanny. You know.

Typical model minority bullsh*t.

Well.

When I got into running the bridge, I finally began to accept that
I would always have a foot in my past in East Oakland
and a foot in my future whether it be on the bridge, the SEC,
the NBA's players union or Goldmans.

I began to claim mines!
I began to accept the uncomfortable as a part of the process.
I began to feel that I had earned it and would earn more.


So seeing it.
Reminds me of how I have succeded.
Where I have come short. Where I haven't met my expectations
and trust, you don't expect to be walking down the street
minding your own business and have
a f*cking photographs trigger all that.

But.

Last August, my father told me I was a soul looker, and I should be
careful about telling
people about what I saw. He is right. And I listened.

But peep, if I can look into others, I shouldn't be so surprised when
the mirror is on me. Right?

With regard to running, there is some deliciousness in the Bay.

There are some mind altering trails near Stanford in the Redwoods and some
others in the Berkeley Hills w/ fly Bay views.

However, it wasn't until I saw that flick of The Bridge in the Crate and Barrel
window did I realize how much I missed those concrete slabs, the sound of the cars,
motorcycles and tourists, and just the majestic sight of it.

I ran it in the pouring ran.

I ran it at night.

I yelled at tourists to move they sh*t.
Pedestrians and Walkers on the left, bikes skates on the right.

I ran that b*tch in bikini's when it got hot.

In many ways the bridge became a sign of my both my strength
my weaknesses, and ultimately my endurance.

I remember the first time I ran it from end to end, w/o stopping.

What I will never forget about that sh*t is that I wasn't trying.

I was listening to 50.

Listen to Memph.

Listening to Freeway.

And it happened.

Before I knew it, I made it to the other end, non stop.

******************

So. I think I have blogged away my wiggles, and ghosts.

Off to kick it on my first Bay Labor Day w/ fam in ages.

Will get at 'chall tomorrow night.

yours,

~m.dot

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When was the last time something startled you?

Made you feel like you saw a ghost?

Took you back to the past when you weren't ready?

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