Stray Carrier Pigeon

At least night's Endurance Sports Award, Cody MacCasland, an eight-year-old double-amputee, was honored as Challenged Athlete of the Year.

During a brief back and forth on stage, Cody happily professed to having beaten two kids in his last swim race who had legs. (Can you imagine being the parent of the losing child, and having to console them? What could you do but enroll them in piano lessons or art classes.)

My brother and husband were with me last night, and afterwards I asked whether they felt just a little lazy after hearing Cody's story. They confessed that they did. I did, too, and I've done two half ironmans.

I've decided to do a third, but it doesn't seem like nearly the undertaking that any Challenged Athlete might accept.

I'm reminded of Hey Nostradamus!, where the protagonist, speaking from the dead, recounts a perfect evening where he stripped down and ran exultant circles through his neighborhood. He declares something like, "I wish that I could've run naked through the streets every day of my life."

I'm not suggesting that anyone, physically challenged or not, break laws of decency. But perhaps a little more metaphorical streaking, and a little less status quo, would do us all good.