Beating Ana by Shannon Cutts

The dive-bomber

My morning jogs have become more like morning adventures.

Last Wednesday, I was jogger-turned-rescuer when a baby white wing dove needed a white (er) knight.

This morning, I was out sweating away, minding my own out-of-shape business, when I was suddenly dive-bombed by a small black yellow-beaked grackle.

Twice.

It was like a scene out of that movie "The Birds"...with only one bird.

Naturally, last week's heroic feats still fresh in my mind (and as I am not afraid of birds...dogs would be a whole other matter) I stopped to see what the bird was so upset about.

In the meantime, it dive-bombed me again.

Totally unused to such a reaction from creatures that ordinarily have a natural affinity for my company, I inched a few feet back but otherwise stayed put, now even more concerned.

In the meantime, a couple walking up behind me distracted the bird, and it went for the guy half of the couple, chasing him with single-minded intensity all the way across the street and back again.

My odd new companion

As mentioned in detail in previous posts, I am turning 40 this year.

I have never turned 40 before (obviously) and so this is the first time in my life that I am noticing a rather curious phenomenon that seems to be attached to this fact.

Almost every time I tell someone else that I am turning 40 this year, I hear something along the lines of, “Really? You sure don’t look it!”

Now, don’t get me wrong – I’m not exactly complaining.

Rather, I’m simply wondering why every single comment I have received in response to this statement centers around how I look.

In fact, now that I’m thinking about it, I can’t even be sure hearing, “You sure don’t look it” is a compliment. They could be trying to tell me that I look much older!

But even that grey area doesn’t clear up the mystery any for me.