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Today,
when I finished a vocal/instrumental performance with my musical group,
Witness, an acquaintance in the audience ran up to me, her teeth
flashing. "Kimra Herb, YOU LITTLE LEPRECHAUN YOU! I didn't know you Now
listen. It was all good that she was issuing; but I didn't hear a word
after "Leprechaun." My head was reeling from it. And lest I
think I misunderstood her; she said it again. "Why you little
leprechaun, you, do I think
I managed a stiff smile. My lips may have gone up, but the leprechaun
thing was about to send me over the edge. Yet, this poor woman, she
wanted to compliment me, gushingly so, but LEPRECHAUN?????? Instantly
I was transported back in time. The year
was: well, let's just say quite a long time ago. My freshman year in
high school, to be exact, and I, along with all of my other band geek
friends were sweating it out in P.E. Now let me be quite clear about
this: despite my fear of advanced math and my inadequacies in the higher
sciences, nothing, no nothing compared to my hatred of physical
education. From the polyester gym shorts to the ever so clingy gym tops,
my scrawny physique showcased the fact that A: I was never going to be
able to get up that dratted rope they always made us attempt to climb,
and B: I was woefully behind my peers when it came to the umm, cough,
womanly development. And
doesn't the fact that I can recall this long ago day in physical
education just speak REAMS of the level of torture I endured being in
this class? But remember it I do, and it was relay day and it was my
turn for the baton. I
grabbed the sucker and ran with all my might. Eighty some pounds of
weight didn't slow me down much but my lack of general muscle tone and
desire to really sweat did. However, that wasn't the problem. "Look!"
My friend Leslie Tabellion shouted across the gym: (I can hear her
still) "Kimra runs like, like AN ELF!" "No,
not an elf!" My other so-called friend Amy Indorf corrected,
"She runs like a LEPRECHAUN!" I
returned the baton to the next runner amid a chorus of laughter and
leprechaun jokes from my friends, who, ever bit as nerdy as I, at least
had the running skills necessary to not run like someone who should be
hocking magically delicious breakfast cereal with marshmallow stars and
clovers. I gave those kids a dirty look. "Don't call me that."
I said, glowering behind my thick glasses. "I am NOT a
leprechaun." We
didn't say YOU were a leprechaun," Leslie comforted, "We just
said that you RUN like a LEPRECHAUN, and anyway, I said you ran like an
ELF; AMY said you run like a leprechaun." I spent
the rest of my P.E. career in fear of having to run; afraid that the
moment I chased after a fly ball in the outfield; dribbled a basketball
down the court, or even the most dreaded of all: ran track, the chorus
of "LEPRECHAUN" would begin anew. It really kind of scarred
me. I think that is why I gained so much weight after I grew older and
my metabolism slowed down- fear of being called a leprechaun kept me off
the track and away from the healthy body I deserved. Even
now, as a errrr, slightly older and more stable person, I run under the
cover of night so that no one need know my deep dark most hideous
secret: I run like a leprechaun. But now it was out there: my leprechaun
status was being screamed to the world, and apparently I was supposed to
be happy about it? The whole leprechaun thing was silly; I told myself,
as I thanked her for her praise and prayed she wouldn't say it again, I
mean, it wasn't as if she had come to me screaming, "YOU BIG FAT
BOVINE COW!" I mean, THAT would be offensive. Still, it was as if
by uttering the words I had been stripped of my glam hairdo, my contacts
and my slightly toned body and had returned to a stinky high school gym
in Ohio sometime back in......well, a really long time ago. And though I
don't think I'll have to delve into this issue on the Dr. Phil show any
time soon, I do think I will continue to run at night, under the cover
of darkness, just for safety's sake.
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