As I putting another load of clothes in the washing machine this morning, I recalled I told Eytan I would order her a pair of unicorn socks. I bought myself a pair of unicorn socks. Then I bought my sister a pair of unicorn socks. These unicorn socks came to be a thing after running and getting odd looks from people.
I had been training for an ultramarathon with my running partner, Jane. Since we were always going out on weekends for long runs in preparation for the big 50k, we decided to keep things interesting and go out to the Banks-Vernonia trail one morning. It was pouring rain when we got there and the plan was to go out for 21 or 22 miles. I can't recall exactly, but we were going to be out there for a while. As we strolled along several miles into our long run, we realized there was an organized run that was going on that same day on that same trail (really, what are the odds of that happening?) We had other runners pass us going the other direction clapping, as if we had passed them, so not the case, but who were we to let them down. Every now and again Jane would feel bad and tell them, 'we're not part of the race'. I however said, 'who cares, let them think we lapped them' But, then maybe 6 miles in, a bunch of people kept waving at me and smiling at me. It was obvious they weren't looking at Jane, but were only looking at me. Jane noticed it too. She said something about it as we kept trucking along, 'wow, you're like a celebrity out here.' I knew that could not be farther from the truth. Banks-Vernonia is rural and i'm sure these people don't see brown people except on television or they think they are some sort of mythical creature. I told Jane, I think they've never seen a Black person before, and they certainly haven't one running out here in Banks. Jane decided to see me out their running was like seeing a unicorn for these people. They were appeared to be so fascinated with what they were seeing and could not keep the look of shock and awe off their faces. It was weird though. I smiled back at them and waved because I do like a fellow friendly runner, but them smiling at a running unicorn was a moment remembered.
Afterwards, I mentioned the incident to my sister who cycles and also gets odd glances. So, after finding some unicorn socks, bought a pair for myself and my sister.
Portland is a funny place. Even funnier if you aren't White, because White people can do some funny stuff. I know there are Black people in Portland, and I know they run, walk, and do all sorts of activities. Why is it then when I go for a run, I am the sole unicorn? I occasionally will see another Black runner in Forrest Park, but it tends to be a super fast African runner whose feet seem to barely touch the ground: that is not me. During the warmer months I sometimes see a group of Black people walking along the waterfront; but, that is once in a blue-moon.
Once, I saw a couple of Black people running in SE, where I live and I was quick to point it out to my husband. I was like, 'look, Sam! That means they probably live over here too!' I haven't seen them since. Darn it!! So, I continue to donn my unicorn socks. And now, I will get Eytan and Ayelet a pair because they want to run, too. But, at least together we'll be a ...what do you call a pack of unicorns? Okay, so I just Googled it and a pack of unicorns is called a blessing. So, anyway, at least, Eytan, Ayelet and I will be a unicorn blessing in our unicorn socks running through SE. A force to be reckoned.
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