Camping, Chaperoning, Being Blessed with Black Belt Candidates

August 30, 2015 by Rieshy

Rocky running with rubber knees bouncing side to side,
parkour style.

Frantic pace following testosterone driven boys with a lung reserving space to hollar, "no higher" and,  "no closer to the edge."

Barely keeping up.  Using the boys as an excuse to race, undignified and gleeful with trails tipping up and twisting down in narrow tunnels of roots and rocks and hard state park tourist packed dirt.

"Excuse us, coming up on the left."

Sweat joining humidity, muscles burning, lungs screaming after sprints.  A glorious moment of treacherous cheating finds me the leader of the pack and I pretend to soar with thunder behind me until the thunder passes with the smell of multiple Axe cologne wearers and I stumble to a slower pace.

Joyful gulps of outside freedom and approximation of flying through late summer and distant water.

Then, with joy imbued in its watery molecules, the run ends with a splash.  Falls and falling love.  The love of a God so amazing and so varied and so physical that he provided waterfalls with rock slides and swimming holes to jump into fully clothed and drenched with happiness.

Chaperoning was never so fun as this.


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