Heroes

Today I saw Superman. I had been seeing this man off and on for many years. Most likely American, I had always thought. Looked oddly familiar but I couldn’t place him.

But today as I passed him, suddenly it came to me – it’s Superman. He runs slowly. Good looking. Gentle yet piercing eyes behind his Clark Kent glasses. I suppose I should say I saw Clark Kent.

This isn’t a man running about in a red cape. Instead, nondescript running shorts and tee, a snug runners backpack but without the hydration pipe. Well then, he wouldn’t be Superman if he had a hydration pipe.

It feels like the world could do with a superhero. Perhaps a LGBTQ+ superhero.

When I looked it up, I learnt that indeed Jon Kent – son of Superman and Lois Lane – inheriting his father’s powers – is bisexual.

I wondered about the good-looking man who ran slow, his gaze steady and his running style fluid and serene.

When I finished my long run – a struggle today – I looked about at the runners around – all shapes, sizes, mostly middle aged – nearly everyone in a struggle against the weather. But, I knew there is no place anyone would rather be than here. Is it a hero thing? I don’t think so. Not in the least.

But undoubtedly, in my mind, these are my people, my community, even as I only recognise them and don’t know them. There is a comfort – the Late Latin word – confortare – “to strengthen much” – there is all the strength here.