Maybe my fate would’ve been different if I’d grown up like a Comanche child – playing naked in the forest until adulthood. Instead I grew up a modern child. Living in a city, playing in the alleys. Always clothed and shod, except for bed and bathtub.
As a teenager I went to the track and tried to run, but after 15 minutes, my shins would go numb. I couldn’t lift my toes. Landed flat and heavy. “Frustration” might have been my middle name, or maybe it was “persistent” for I clumped along despite the disability, hoping the symptoms would resolve. I wanted so badly to go fast and run far.
The Long Brown Path 