The Birds… the Freaking Birds
The day the Lord created hope was probably the same day he created Spring.
Ah, it’s Spring again the time when a triathlete’s thoughts turn to “Oh. My. God. My race is only ‘X’ number of weeks away!” But, the sun is shinier and the weather is warmer. The bugs are coming out (ugh) and the birds are active.
Ah, the birds – I always forget about the damn birds. See, I have a slight bird problem. I’m not referring to the fact that I tend to find abandoned baby birds that I have to nurse back to health, which is also a problem I have. (I don’t know how birds do it honestly – baby birds are EXHAUSTING.)
I’m referring to the fact that every spring I inevitably get assaulted by a red-winged blackbird. I know I can’t be the only one this happens to, but I have been attacked by these birds a number of times. I’ve been actually physically assaulted by these birds. I’m talking pecked in the head assaulted. I’ve been sneak attacked, chased, dive-bombed, and frontally assaulted. Apparently these birds are insanely territorial when nesting. Apparently I also have insanely bad luck and repeatedly find myself in their neighborhoods – which is everywhere because they live in the freaking trees.
So, while on my run yesterday along my normal route enjoying the warm Spring weather with a “doodeedoodeedoo” in my head, I hear a very familiar sound… THIS SOUND. This sound incites terror to my very core. I don’t think you can really understand how messed up it is to be attacked by a bird while just going along minding your own business. And then yesterday, from the bare bushes of a field, I was being watched. And “chip chip chip”-ed at.
It’s unsettling, and I have no way to combat these vengeful terrorists. Dave said they can smell my fear – I think he’s right.