Walking the walk
Jun. 9th, 2009 06:18 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
thisnewdayEarlier this spring I'd said "Hi" to one of the coaches as she walked with her class and we passed each other on the outdoor track. Yesterday, she was with them on the tennis court as I was turning the corner on the way home from my daily fitness walk. She was saying, "OK, listen up. Friday will be our last day."
Among all the signs that I've seen lately - SU's graduation last month, the nearly empty streets up on the hill near campus, the "Seniors 09" jerseys that some of the high school kids have been wearing - this one seemed the closest to home, the most personally affecting.
I'm gonna miss seeing those kids out there, just doing what people do when they're young and able and have suddenly been set free, for a few minutes, from other responsibilities.
From my own slow orbit around the track, I watch and marvel but, for the most part, am not envious. I did all that once. Did it as well as some of them and a little better, maybe, than others. But it really isn't about that.
Summer is ahead and then the fall. And after that the months of winter, when none of us will be out there. But it's not about that either.
It's about being in the moment. The warm, walking, breathing moment. With the sharp, white lines on the red, resilient track still stretching ahead.
Without nostalgia, without envy, without fear. Just, you know, walking the walk...
Among all the signs that I've seen lately - SU's graduation last month, the nearly empty streets up on the hill near campus, the "Seniors 09" jerseys that some of the high school kids have been wearing - this one seemed the closest to home, the most personally affecting.
I'm gonna miss seeing those kids out there, just doing what people do when they're young and able and have suddenly been set free, for a few minutes, from other responsibilities.
From my own slow orbit around the track, I watch and marvel but, for the most part, am not envious. I did all that once. Did it as well as some of them and a little better, maybe, than others. But it really isn't about that.
Summer is ahead and then the fall. And after that the months of winter, when none of us will be out there. But it's not about that either.
It's about being in the moment. The warm, walking, breathing moment. With the sharp, white lines on the red, resilient track still stretching ahead.
Without nostalgia, without envy, without fear. Just, you know, walking the walk...
