Sunday, November 29, 2009
You can hear the piccolo from Clint Eastwood’s westerns playing. My nemesis and I prepare to square off yet again. Today I shall own you. No more wimpy fifteen minutes. I shall go thirty. Ha! The treadmill’s motor kicks up in sync with Bruce Springsteen’s volume on the MP3. No clock watching today. The Springsteen album is my stop watch. There it is. THE song! I am almost there – a full thirty minutes! Let’s take it home God! The final refrain and key change vibrate between my ears and I jump off the treadmill. YES! Arching my back I pump my fist like a soccer player scoring the game winning goal in the World Cup. Take it home God? My backbone springs into a more appropriate it is Sunday and I just said ‘take it home God’ posture. Take it home God? I heard God laugh, “And we did.” GOAL!