True Story©… I Wanna Go Outside

 


     My 44nd birthday will be here in nine days…

My current physical weight is as low as it has been in like 15 years, my wind and stamina for physical activity are about as good as they have been in about the last ten.

     Be all of that as it may, if I had ever been athletically inclined enough to have participated in a professional sport of any type other than golf, they would have put my old ass out to pasture no sooner than about five years ago.
  that would be if I wasn’t ignant and didn’t didn’t frequently traverse the world as if proverbial shit don’t stink and proverbial fire don’t burn, proverbially.  More on that in a minute.

     Last summer, I built a small home gym in my garage/mancave for quick workouts or short intervals throughout my days between tasks or before/after work.  This comes in addition to the extensive time I spend out behind the lawn mower and the couple of miles I will take in around the neighborhood whenever the inclination hits me.  Let’s just say it, I am kind of in shape here lately.

     About three weeks ago, while the weather was still refusing to behave like a late NC spring – which is to say “fucking HOT,” I decided to rally up a few people to meet up and play a game of kickball.  By “people,” I mean the people I invited were all over the age of 35 and some on into their fifties.  To be frank, I am not sure they even taught children how to play kickball if they were born after 1985.  Don’t quote me on that, I am just kind of guessing based on their musical tastes and gadget usage.
[Phlip note: “hey you damn kids, get off my lawn!]

Anyway…

     I hopped upon Thine Book of Faces midday Friday and invited a BUNCH of people to meet me at a park that happens to be across the street from my mom’s house and be prepared to have a grand ol’ time with music and a fun game of kickball.  I explained that while the GAME was for the grownups, I get that some of us have kids and grands, but the playground attached would give the littles something to do.
I figured that I would show up, and even if no one else did that I could get in a good walk/run through the three connected parks as a workout before heading back home.

     Dig this, though…  20 people showed up!
We carried the whole thing pickup style…  The oldest two people in attendance were team captains and everyone else lined up to be picked for teams.  I instructed my daughter on how to keep score, then I “borrowed” four paper plates from mom’s house and set up bases on the field and we went for it!

     A good ol’-assed time was had by all involved and we laughed and played and talked about back in the days when we would often do this same exact thing with these same exact people in this same exact park back in the 80s and 90s.
One hour got away from us.
Two hours slid by.
Three hours.
Four hours…

     So somewhere between hour 4 and 5 of an endless game of kickball, I decided I was gonna get sporty and kick the ball clear out of the makeshift field and into the woods…
Pitcher rolls the ball, I take a three-step approach and plant my left foot as if I am prepared to kick a Superbowl-winning field goal when…

**CRACK**

     Not to let you in on anything more than you need to or don’t already know, but as an 18 year-old, I was able to haul my 5’8” self high enough to dunk a regulation hoop.  Also, that was five presidents ago.  Nowadays?  My knees sing a song of mercy just walking up and down the steps in my house.  That said, there is no way in hell that I should be attempting any superhuman athletic feats at an age I am blessed to still have my hairline, however gray it has become over the last few years.
My left knee had decided for me that I should PROBABLY sit my old ass down somewhere for a few weeks and perhaps see my primary care physician about an MRI and a cortisone shot for this shit.  Did I listen to that hatin’-ass knee?  Fuck no!  I told y’all eight paragraphs ago, I am ignant and hard headed.  I finished the last inning of the game with a noticeable limp, and refused to acknowledge it.

     Did you know that if you assemble enough old-heads in one place at one time, the conversation WILL invariably turn into competing litanies of ailments and medication listings?
After the game, we didn’t all just up and take off, we actually sat around a while longer and talked.  Of course, the question of my knee came up.  With that topic in the circle, EVERYONE wanted to talk about their own ailments…  Backaches, migraines, questionable knees, you name it.  It was like an odd mix of Gen-X geriatrics.
But you know what?  A good-ass time was had by all, I’mma see if I can’t throw something like this together for my birthday.

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