I write about my life and life itself seen through my eyes for who can write through the experiences of others if not their own?

Monday, April 09, 2012

Guts

I’ve seen him a few times; a one leg biker. He bikes better than I would ever hope to. I wondered stupidly how he hops on the bike and then I shake myself out of my own ignorance and remind myself that if he can ride a bike, he can easily get on it.
Sad, heartbreaking, you would think. He wears his Army T-shirt and rides around West Point, easy to assume he lost his leg while on duty.
And he is there, paddling every day or at least as often as I run.
I keep looking ahead unattentive as he approaches trying to pretend it is not an unusual sight. Surviving hurts when seen as unusual so I try to give him what he probably strives for “you look like anyone else, no different, I didn’t even notice you”

Yeah, I know that feeling.