"That Guy"

I saw that guy yesterday morning.  You know who I'm talking about.  "That guy."  The one who makes you shake your head in disbelief.  I saw him during my early morning run.  Having just returned from Israel, I wasn't yet prepared for the frigid temperatures that met me as I stepped off the plane in Rochester.  When I checked the weather before my run, weatherchannel.com said that it was 10 degrees and that it felt like just 1.  I wonder, does it ever actually feel like 10 degrees?  What does 1 feel like? 

So I peeled on the tight layers that are meant to keep my body warm when the mercury drops.  I still haven't found a pair of gloves warm enough for my hands.  I've tried 3 or 4 already this season.  No luck.  I don't think more than a square inch or two of flesh was exposed to the cold air when I set out yesterday.  Though, when my glasses fogged up and froze, my eyeballs would become the first offering I reluctantly made to the winter demons.

It was just after I removed my glasses that I saw "that guy."  I know I saw him because my view was no longer obstructed.  And I've seen him countless times before.  So I recognized him.  His defining characteristic changes depending on the conditions.  Yesterday, in 10 degrees which felt like 1, "that guy" was wearing shorts.  I actually rolled my frozen eye balls and shook my head.  Now, I acknowledge that I don't have a whole lot of body fat to keep me warm.  Sometimes, like yesterday, or each time I jump into the pool and burn half of my workout's calories just by shivering my body to warmth, I wish I had a bit more.  So maybe I feel colder than some other people do, but yesterday most certainly was not shorts weather, and I don't believe that, even while exerting himself on his morning run, "that guy" was warm.

I've spoken about "that guy" long enough that when I mention him to Rachel, he needs no explanation.  She's seen him.  When I returned home from my run, I told her that I saw him.  "Amazing," she said.  "Today?!  He's crazy!"

I saw that guy on one of my last nights in Israel.  During our several night stay in the Negev Desert, when were scheduled to have dinner at a Bedouin tent.  It was an authentic experiences with all the trimming prepared in a kosher kitchen at a nearby hotel.  Just the way the Bedouin's eat.  On a dark desert road in the middle of the Ramon Crater, our fearless bus driver, Eli took a left turn down something that hardly resembled a road.  Curving left and right for more than 20 minutes and still seeing no signs of life, my family started to wonder if we were lost or being brought to our execution.  When, finally, we saw a glimmer of light ahead, we breathed a collective sigh of relief and sooner there after we ate.

The ride home was less anxious, but somewhere along this long, unpaved desert "road," the bus came across a man in the distance who looked, somehow, familiar.  As we approached, I recognized him as "that guy".  That guy was on a run along this pitch black road in the unforgiving desert among the hyenas and other unfriendlies.  Yes, he was wearing his shorts, though it certainly wasn't 10 degrees that felt like 1.  What distinguished "that guy" this time was the absence of any sort of light guiding his way.  In fact, he almost seemed fearful of light.  When the bus rounded the bend and shined its high beams upon him, he curled up and retracted as if he were a vampire in sunlight.  The sky was filled with stars, but there was no moonlight to brighten up the way.  Eli, the fearless bus driver shook his head, said something under his breath in Hebrew, and then turned off the bus lights to see just how dark it was outside.  Close your eyes and you wouldn't see a whole lot less than we saw outside the windshield with the lights shut off.

"That guy" is omnipresent.  He is everywhere.  He came with me to Israel and returned with me back to Rochester.  He makes me shake my head and wonder, "what is he thinking?"  And then I realize that he's not.  How could he possibly be?

Have you seen "that guy"?  If so, email me and share the context in which you crossed paths with him.  Better yet, are you "that guy," or even "that girl"?  If so, email me and let me in on your secret.  Tell me just what your thinking when you decide to go outside in shorts when it feels like 1 degree, or trek through the pitch black wilderness without any light to guide your way.  mfield75@gmail.com. 

I went running this morning.  It was just 6 degrees, but it felt like 6 below.  I thought it was cold yesterday.  I was wrong.  Maybe that guy isn't so crazy after all...