(no subject)
One of my favorite things to do as a kid was run and roll down this huge hill out back of St. Joseph's orphanage (was I adopted? My parents always say no, but I have my doubts sometimes). It was exhilarating because of that threshold moment when you realized that you were no longer in control. "Well, then. Here we are. I've done my part. Your turn, Mr. Hill." The impeding spill, of course, was always a cause for concern. I'd come back from kindergarten looking like a walking, grass-stained bruise monster and my mom would gasp disapprovingly. I realized that, after a scraped knee just a few weeks ago from frisbee practice, I hadn't really had a need for a band-aid, neosporin, and a soothing kiss from mom to speed the healing process since I was in grade school.
So yeah. I ran down a hill last night. Exhilarating and painful.
So yeah. I ran down a hill last night. Exhilarating and painful.