Okay, so there I was… running at Memorial Park around seven o’clock one fantastic spring evening. Well… maybe not running, let’s just say jogging. On second thought, let’s say moving forward with a jogging type shuffle. After years of not being able to jog, because of several injuries, I had just started again several weeks earlier.
During these weeks I had been jogging in the next door parking lot at my work and on the subdivision streets at my home. This was my first return to the Memorial Park track where I had done most of my jogging before. I was feeling good about my progress since my return to jogging and was even able to pick up the pace every second or third outing. I got to were I felt like I was just flying pass the trees and cars in the parking lot and on the streets.
As I trudged along the Memorial Park track that evening, it was made painfully clear to me that the trees and cars were all stationary objects. Now that I was actually running with other people; I felt like a tree, rooted firmly in one spot as they all flew by me. I did maintain my composure and keep my pace steady because I realized that I had just entered a higher level of performance. In order to achieve my goal I had to run my race and ignore what was going on around me.
There was one thought in my memory that provided some solace and kept me going. At least no one was walking faster than I was running anymore. You see, when I first moved back to Houston and had just started jogging, I was really slow. If fact, I couldn’t even out run the speed walkers. I have to admit that was embarrassing. People could walk faster than I could run. There is one memory that will probably haunt me forever. It happened on the running track that surrounds Rice University.
I had entering into the ten minute mark of my jog and was feeling good. I was warmed up, had my stride down and the trees seemed like they were standing still as I passed them. (Which I guess they were but you know what I mean.) Then this white flash came up from behind and started to pass me. Startled, I look to the side and saw that it was a lady in her 70’s and to my surprise she was just speed walking. Knees and elbow flying high she remarked, “Out of the way slow-poke” as she passed. To top it off, she flipped me the figure once in front of me.
Now one might think that a brazen attitude, such as that, was a little daring for a female in her 70’s to be accosting a male, almost thirty years younger than her with. As I viewed her scraggly white jogging suit, speeding away, I realized that she had been observing her fellow running mates on the track for a long time and knew there was no way in hell I would be able to catch her.
I entered the half way mark of the track around Memorial Park that evening with at least the thought that I was now at least up to the level of being able to jog faster than someone could walk. I was already starting to huff and puff though. In jogging on the street and parking lots I was doing about two miles. The track around Memorial Park is three miles. I knew this was going to be a stretch for me but I was ready for the challenge. Then this young female runner flies past me. I didn’t pay any attention to her until she pulled up in front of me and started to power walk. At that point, I realized that with her power walking, she must of caught up to me and had to break into a run in order to get around me. I was dismayed and thought, “Not again.” The difference between the power walking Mama at Rice University and the twenty-ish person that just passed me then struck me.
She was lovely, at least her back side was. A petite figure with nice straight shoulders and rounded in all the places I like to see rounded. She had on snug navy blue running pants and a grey top with enough space between the two to see the tattoo in the small of her back - a tattoo that was only partially displayed and sort of disappeared into her snug navy pants. I couldn’t see what the tattoo was but that only made it the more intriguing. At that point, I picked up my jogging pace to match her power walking pace and I found myself in heaven.
We were headed west as the sun was entering its final stages of the day. When in the shadow of the tall towering pine trees lining the course, I could see the power walker ahead of me with splendid clarity. But as our trek took us into the open sunlight, a sort of vision seemed to transpire. As my eye’s squinted from the rays of the direct sunlight the only thing I could see was her silhouette against the brilliant light. Her undulating, power walking motion played with the rays of sunlight emanating around her figure and inspired me to realize that I was jogging with a power walking angel. (Now mind you, remember that I am close to the third mile mark of this jog and I am sure that all of the physical effects of this exertion are playing a part in my feeling as well.)
Because of the new impetus I received from my exercise partner, I had now hit a stride that was faster than anything I had accomplished since I started jogging after my injuries - and I was elated. As my body became accustomed to this new level of performance my mind kicked in and told the rest of myself that this power walking angel was nothing more than just a carrot enticing the horse to run a little faster. After all, she was a complete stranger. There was no way I would be able to come up from behind her, tap her on the shoulder, stop her in the middle of Memorial Park, and with both of us gasping for air say, “Hey, my name is Jim. What’s yours?”
“No, no, no”, I told myself, “She is just a carrot to get me to raise my performance up a notch.” Then, as we rounded the final corner of the and headed into the third mile, the power walking angel kicked it up a notch, began to jog and started to pull away from me. I went into shock and in my mind exclaimed, “Whoa, Girlfriend… what the hell are you doing?”
Without even thinking, I kicked up my pace to keep up with her. As she weaved her way through the trees, I followed. As she picked her way through the comings and goings of our fellow runners, I followed. All the time of the increased pace I focused and thought, “OK, breathe deep and relax - that’s the key to keeping up.” After several minutes, as I started to get light headed and passing out became a reality, I looked at my carrot angel, as she sped away from me, and said to myself, ”Sorry Sweetheart, I’ve got to let you go now. “
My pace then returned to what I was more accustomed too. I still tried to maintain visual contact and watched those snug navy running pants darting in and out of the growing number of running between us. Then a fat walking guy, with his white socks all the way up to his knees and plaid shorts, blocked my view of her completely. I want to tell you, I would have kicked his butt if I could have gotten up there fast enough.
Just finishing the three miles returned to being my only goal - and that was good enough for me. I was ahead of the pace I had initially set out on, had a rather titillating adventure in the process and was now headed home. Listening to the steady rhythmic pulse my feet made as they pressed on the gravely surface of the running track became the focus of my the rest of this journey.
Then the fat guy stopped, exited the track and I saw that my angel was walking, not power walking but just walking at a normal walking pace. My mind immediately kicked in as told me, “OK, you are jogging and she is walking, that means you are getting closer to her.” I then told myself, “Well hell, if I start running I will catch up to her even faster… so I started running again.”
It was working. She was walking and I was running. My heart rate went up again… my breathing went up again, but I thought to myself, “Hey, maybe I will get to see her front side with this effort and be able to put a face to the back side I have grown to know and love in these last few minutes.”
This was good enough reasoning for me and I was now sprinting. It was just about ten feet before I was able to see her front side that she turned at a ninety degree angle away from me, exited the track and headed towards her car and the end of our encounter. As I passed her I made the decision to indulge in the inappropriate behavior of ogling at a woman more than half my age and turned to look upon her face. I was pleased with the decision because her front side was just as appealing as her back side and I was able to finish my run in satisfaction.
As I started to drive out of Memorial Park in my mini van that evening, all of the excitement of the jog had faded. I had a successful warm down and stretching period immediately after my jog. But now, because of the extra excretion on my joints, the bone spur under the Achilles tendon ached, the old injury to my right knee ached and throbbed and both my ankles were hurting just because they just wanted too. Driving down Memorial Parkway, as I headed toward the 610 loop, I thought to myself, “All this and I still didn’t get the girl.”
Currently, I have to say, I don’t know if “L” stands for the word love or lust in my life. With the way I was feeling after this encounter, all I wanted to say is that I am getting to old for this sh*t. But now, as I comfortably sit here typing on my computer keyboard, reminiscing about my power walking angel, an intriguing thought is playing with my mind, “I wonder what kind of tattoo that was?”
You know what; I think I’ll go jogging at Memorial Park right now. And I do hope there is going to be a lot of people jogging and running and power walking right along with me.
Jim
Home Page
During these weeks I had been jogging in the next door parking lot at my work and on the subdivision streets at my home. This was my first return to the Memorial Park track where I had done most of my jogging before. I was feeling good about my progress since my return to jogging and was even able to pick up the pace every second or third outing. I got to were I felt like I was just flying pass the trees and cars in the parking lot and on the streets.
As I trudged along the Memorial Park track that evening, it was made painfully clear to me that the trees and cars were all stationary objects. Now that I was actually running with other people; I felt like a tree, rooted firmly in one spot as they all flew by me. I did maintain my composure and keep my pace steady because I realized that I had just entered a higher level of performance. In order to achieve my goal I had to run my race and ignore what was going on around me.
There was one thought in my memory that provided some solace and kept me going. At least no one was walking faster than I was running anymore. You see, when I first moved back to Houston and had just started jogging, I was really slow. If fact, I couldn’t even out run the speed walkers. I have to admit that was embarrassing. People could walk faster than I could run. There is one memory that will probably haunt me forever. It happened on the running track that surrounds Rice University.
I had entering into the ten minute mark of my jog and was feeling good. I was warmed up, had my stride down and the trees seemed like they were standing still as I passed them. (Which I guess they were but you know what I mean.) Then this white flash came up from behind and started to pass me. Startled, I look to the side and saw that it was a lady in her 70’s and to my surprise she was just speed walking. Knees and elbow flying high she remarked, “Out of the way slow-poke” as she passed. To top it off, she flipped me the figure once in front of me.
Now one might think that a brazen attitude, such as that, was a little daring for a female in her 70’s to be accosting a male, almost thirty years younger than her with. As I viewed her scraggly white jogging suit, speeding away, I realized that she had been observing her fellow running mates on the track for a long time and knew there was no way in hell I would be able to catch her.
I entered the half way mark of the track around Memorial Park that evening with at least the thought that I was now at least up to the level of being able to jog faster than someone could walk. I was already starting to huff and puff though. In jogging on the street and parking lots I was doing about two miles. The track around Memorial Park is three miles. I knew this was going to be a stretch for me but I was ready for the challenge. Then this young female runner flies past me. I didn’t pay any attention to her until she pulled up in front of me and started to power walk. At that point, I realized that with her power walking, she must of caught up to me and had to break into a run in order to get around me. I was dismayed and thought, “Not again.” The difference between the power walking Mama at Rice University and the twenty-ish person that just passed me then struck me.
She was lovely, at least her back side was. A petite figure with nice straight shoulders and rounded in all the places I like to see rounded. She had on snug navy blue running pants and a grey top with enough space between the two to see the tattoo in the small of her back - a tattoo that was only partially displayed and sort of disappeared into her snug navy pants. I couldn’t see what the tattoo was but that only made it the more intriguing. At that point, I picked up my jogging pace to match her power walking pace and I found myself in heaven.
We were headed west as the sun was entering its final stages of the day. When in the shadow of the tall towering pine trees lining the course, I could see the power walker ahead of me with splendid clarity. But as our trek took us into the open sunlight, a sort of vision seemed to transpire. As my eye’s squinted from the rays of the direct sunlight the only thing I could see was her silhouette against the brilliant light. Her undulating, power walking motion played with the rays of sunlight emanating around her figure and inspired me to realize that I was jogging with a power walking angel. (Now mind you, remember that I am close to the third mile mark of this jog and I am sure that all of the physical effects of this exertion are playing a part in my feeling as well.)
Because of the new impetus I received from my exercise partner, I had now hit a stride that was faster than anything I had accomplished since I started jogging after my injuries - and I was elated. As my body became accustomed to this new level of performance my mind kicked in and told the rest of myself that this power walking angel was nothing more than just a carrot enticing the horse to run a little faster. After all, she was a complete stranger. There was no way I would be able to come up from behind her, tap her on the shoulder, stop her in the middle of Memorial Park, and with both of us gasping for air say, “Hey, my name is Jim. What’s yours?”
“No, no, no”, I told myself, “She is just a carrot to get me to raise my performance up a notch.” Then, as we rounded the final corner of the and headed into the third mile, the power walking angel kicked it up a notch, began to jog and started to pull away from me. I went into shock and in my mind exclaimed, “Whoa, Girlfriend… what the hell are you doing?”
Without even thinking, I kicked up my pace to keep up with her. As she weaved her way through the trees, I followed. As she picked her way through the comings and goings of our fellow runners, I followed. All the time of the increased pace I focused and thought, “OK, breathe deep and relax - that’s the key to keeping up.” After several minutes, as I started to get light headed and passing out became a reality, I looked at my carrot angel, as she sped away from me, and said to myself, ”Sorry Sweetheart, I’ve got to let you go now. “
My pace then returned to what I was more accustomed too. I still tried to maintain visual contact and watched those snug navy running pants darting in and out of the growing number of running between us. Then a fat walking guy, with his white socks all the way up to his knees and plaid shorts, blocked my view of her completely. I want to tell you, I would have kicked his butt if I could have gotten up there fast enough.
Just finishing the three miles returned to being my only goal - and that was good enough for me. I was ahead of the pace I had initially set out on, had a rather titillating adventure in the process and was now headed home. Listening to the steady rhythmic pulse my feet made as they pressed on the gravely surface of the running track became the focus of my the rest of this journey.
Then the fat guy stopped, exited the track and I saw that my angel was walking, not power walking but just walking at a normal walking pace. My mind immediately kicked in as told me, “OK, you are jogging and she is walking, that means you are getting closer to her.” I then told myself, “Well hell, if I start running I will catch up to her even faster… so I started running again.”
It was working. She was walking and I was running. My heart rate went up again… my breathing went up again, but I thought to myself, “Hey, maybe I will get to see her front side with this effort and be able to put a face to the back side I have grown to know and love in these last few minutes.”
This was good enough reasoning for me and I was now sprinting. It was just about ten feet before I was able to see her front side that she turned at a ninety degree angle away from me, exited the track and headed towards her car and the end of our encounter. As I passed her I made the decision to indulge in the inappropriate behavior of ogling at a woman more than half my age and turned to look upon her face. I was pleased with the decision because her front side was just as appealing as her back side and I was able to finish my run in satisfaction.
As I started to drive out of Memorial Park in my mini van that evening, all of the excitement of the jog had faded. I had a successful warm down and stretching period immediately after my jog. But now, because of the extra excretion on my joints, the bone spur under the Achilles tendon ached, the old injury to my right knee ached and throbbed and both my ankles were hurting just because they just wanted too. Driving down Memorial Parkway, as I headed toward the 610 loop, I thought to myself, “All this and I still didn’t get the girl.”
Currently, I have to say, I don’t know if “L” stands for the word love or lust in my life. With the way I was feeling after this encounter, all I wanted to say is that I am getting to old for this sh*t. But now, as I comfortably sit here typing on my computer keyboard, reminiscing about my power walking angel, an intriguing thought is playing with my mind, “I wonder what kind of tattoo that was?”
You know what; I think I’ll go jogging at Memorial Park right now. And I do hope there is going to be a lot of people jogging and running and power walking right along with me.
Jim
Home Page
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