Sunday, July 24, 2011

Black Cat

A black cat crossed my path as I ran today. I always say (out loud) "Good luck!" when that happens. Which I believe to be true. Black cats have been unfairly maligned for centuries.

Though a scientist, I am superstitious at times. I haven't yet met a doctor or nurse who isn't. I dare you to walk into your night shift and declare to the room, "Looks like it is gonna be a slow one tonight!" You may not live to tell about it, if looks could kill. I am known for my "black cloud", meaning I rarely have a "slow" night shift, day shift or any shift. I see the house supervisor sigh when I come on. We get along very well, if for no other reason than we work together a lot, because we are always so busy. For some reason everyone blames that on ME.

Soon after the black cat crossed my path today while I was out running, this song came on:
Strange how the universe sometimes fits together so well.

That song is on my running playlist, along with a wide variety of pop, rock and a few blues tunes. I was noticing today that a lot of them have the word "run" in them somewhere, and most have a perfect tempo for a sub 8 minute mile, which is my marathon goal pace (less than 8, but not likely less than 7:30, unless I don't want to survive, if unreasonable marathon paces could kill). I still can't wrap my brain around the elite runners doing a sub 5 minute pace for over 26 miles.

But I bet even they wear their lucky socks, or the underwear that gave them their last P.R. or a certain cap or bracelet or tattoo or maybe they eat a jelly donut at midnight before every race, or they do 17 jumping jacks at the starting line or they listen to their favorite song while meditating their way through the course in their mind. Athletes, like doctors, are superstitious. I think this is why The Freak won't cut, or apparently even wash his hair. Please, Mr. Freak, at least a shampoo and trim!

Tim "The Freak" Lincecum, North Beach Mural June '11

I should go nap, as night shift is rushing toward me with all of its Sound and Fury.  In the words of Faulkner "There ain't no luck on this place." But they didn't have my favorite night shift shirt, which is currently in the wash, getting ready for tonight. And they didn't know just how lucky black cats really are.

1 comment:

  1. You know, you could just become an Atlanta Braves fan like the rest of us who really know a thing or two. Then, you would not have to worry about (and could even root against) Tim Lincecum!