Aging muscularity whines, cries, refuses to work as ordered. Minor waves of pain float in, float out, their focus on specific body parts come out of nowhere and last only long enough to leave a slight taste of their passing. Cursing the limitations age has imposed yet vehemently repudiating time and its supposed toll, he fooled himself one more time and set course for another trip down memory lane. Snubbing the soft caress of virtual travel, he just had to pound out the miles declining to admit he is not what he used to be.
Done now, he sits on a bumper, the ground, or maybe a nearby picnic table and reflects. Every physical piece and part screams at him in anger. Yet he notices that amidst their incessant complaining, his mind is crystal clear focused on this specific moment of Life and how delicious it tastes.
He looks up. Across the parking lot, across the street on the sidewalk, an old codger shuffles along with a walker. One step, two steps, stop. Push the walker forward - now repeat. The rider smiles. Being that guy may yet be in his future. But not today. Today he can still fly.
6 comments:
Nice Zen-like description of the aging process. Reminds me of, uhh...I forgot what I was gonna say.
It's the 200 words that got me, but time well spent. Reminds me of an old Little Feat song... Well you know that you're over the hill when your mind makes a promise that your body can't fill.
I haven't done any biking for a couple of years, but my hiking isn't up to par.
"Every physical piece and part screams at him in anger."
Yep, that about covers it for me and add to that what Mr. Charleston said.
I know; I'm a thirty-five year old male in a seventy-two year old's body. But, the young man inside refuses to give up.
the Ol'Buzzard
Yes, I can definitely relate to your conclusion.
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