Michael: Play

Like an old man’s hair
The breezy clouds comb over
The prominent ridge.

Sunday, October 23, 2016

Still slightly groggy from yesterdays bout of laziness, I wasn’t too disappointed when the receptionist at the Quetzal Lodge informed us that the only taxi working today wasn’t answering his phone. That meant no ride for Kimme up the road to the Quetzal trailhead. And that gave me the opportunity to propose that we, instead of running our usual 3 ½ hours, walk for an hour and 45 minutes then jog back to the lodge. Deal.

It was a beautiful walk and an almost uneventful jog back to the lodge for lunch. But toward the end of the country road that tees into the main road that leads back to the lodge a young indigenous man saw us jogging and decided to start running himself.

As a racer and a human I got the feeling that he wanted to play so why not? I picked up the pace to see if I could catch him. When he turned and looked over his shoulder, I knew the game was on. Twice he threw in some short burst of speed, but finally I was able to catch him.

At the end of the road I jogged back to Kimme just as she pulled up to my unnamed nemesis who was now walking. I clapped for him and gave him a thumb’s up. He smiled.

Kimme asked me what was going on and I told her we were doing what we all should be doing when we’re outside on a Sunday; we were playing and having fun.