When I, the beast, entered the park, I began hunting a tree to fulfill the request of The Urban Runner. Howbeit, that search got negleted quickly.
I swaggered up to home plate staring down the pitcher. (I ignored the real life guy that drove up in the pickup truck staring at me strangely). I got into my batter's stance. The pitch came into the sweet spot. I swiftly swung and hit that imaginary ball over the heads of the outfielders. I took off for 1st as the ball rolled out to the fence at the 200 yard marker. I headed to 2nd where a glance toward the outfield told me to press on. I took a wide turn around 3rd and knew I could stretch this baby to a homer. One hard smack of my foot on home plate brought the fantasy team out of the dugout as I cheerfully jogged back. Illusory high fives were given as a big smile sat upon my face.
Back to that tree, I put one barefoot on a couple of trees but didn't feel ready to master any. Maybe next time. In the mean time, I challenge all the run smileys to hit a few home runs of their own.
I resumed my standard form of a 30 something mom, wife, runner and headed out of the park to run a bit further, walk a bit further, and run a little further again. One thing was constant in whatever form I was in, I smiled.
My childhood sport was Ice Hockey. The nearest rink would be about a 4 mile run. I suppose I could jump onto the ice barefoot and score a few goals.....
ReplyDeleteor maybe not.
Great post! SOOOO SMILEY