A Six Year Old Angel

My broken toe has slowed down my barefoot running and mini-triathlon training.  Actually, I won’t be running for a couple more weeks and it has already been a month.   It’s been a little discouraging after building up and feeling like I had a good start, but I haven’t given up.  However, the rest must be doing me some good if one can judge by a particular conversation at the gym this morning.

Contrary to what you might think, my injury is not due to barefoot running.  Healing has even been aided by continued barefoot activity.  I am now able to swim, ride a bike, and do most of my weight lifting routine, including walking lunges while holding 10 pounds in each hand.  The latter is what I was doing this afternoon at the gym.  Near me, a bright eyed little boy was playfully whacking a large body sized punching bag.  It seemed to be more a matter of physics and possibilities for him.  There was no sign of aggression or trying to be a tough guy.  But could he just get it to move?

As I progressed slowly with my exercises across the gym floor, he casually turned my way to observe.   He matter-of-factly, in a cheerful sweet voice said, “Those are heavy,” as he pointed to the weights.

I glanced at his slender arms and smiled, saying, “Probably for you.”

He responded brightly, “Yeah, because I’m only 6, and you …”  He paused a split second to evaluate me and finished with an assured beam,  “are, like, 10.”