shape

Ever since I was young,
I overheard people telling me something about myself.
Often about the way I looked.

My cheeks were chubby,
My body was slightly round.
Yet, if I wanted it any different, I needed to move.

 How could I move?
Just walk?



Walk,
Bike,
Swim.
Jump.
Skip.

Hop rope.

I could play a game.
Do something they called sports.

Basketball?
Soccer?
Football?

Handball?
Volleyball.

Never really did tennis.
Thought their skirts were cute.

I could run.
I thought, I'm a man.
I was made to run.

Yet, why was my shape
falling any short of what it should have bene?

Why was I feeling oppressed and ashamed for parts of me?
Had I been born that way?
Had I been changed to look like that?
What was it for?

To be a fool?



But I'm not just my body.
I have my own mind.
I think of myself differently than what others would wanted for me.

Why would they be sick as to think of that?

Could I ski?
Could I get on a board and feel my equilibrium and the moment?
Or did I have to choose differently?

Could I see people moving their bodies,
And wanted to mimic them?
Could I wanted to dance?

Why shouldn't my body be flexible by the time I was 30?

/Before I figured

I spent a long time away from running.
I met someone that I looked and I was like,
We should have been made for each other.

You enjoy life throughly.
You've been able to reach most of your potential.
Why shouldn't I?

He inspired me.
They.
These people that came through my life.
In so many ways.

Sometimes just because of what I thought.
Mostly just because of what I wanted.

So I got on a treadmill.
Could I be on top of it for 15 min?

I couldn't jog at 4.0 miles per ?hour
I could walk, and here and there burst into a 4.5.
I could keep doing that.

And I could bike for a little while.
I was able to swim here and there.
And often I drank and thought I could dance.

Then, suddenly, I was like, I could run a certain distance...
I could reach 3.1 miles... in like 43 minutes.
Did I walk? Did I change my velocity during the course?

Probably, of course.

Yet, I believed.
I believed I could.

So I figured I play with the buttons on the machines.
So I could stay running at a 6.0 mph?
And then do 3.1 miles in under 30 minutes.

And then someone seemed to believe in me.
Someone stuck by me, and told me things,
That I could have used to believe.

Its not about the distance, or the time, its about the number of tracks.
And I was like... indeed.
Forget this thing about body...




and so I thought.
Of course, I thought.

And I thought about the music.
And I thought about the one time someone was playing Frisbee on a beach, and said that was his sport.

And I laughed, saying, that?
A sport?

AHAHAHAHAHAHa.
Take a look at me now then. :~
All over it.
How /hypocrite.