Kicking It Into Gear

The sound of slap-slap-clump-slap-slap-clump intensified as its source neared the feelin'-good-today runner.  A thought of pity crossed her mind and she realized by the sound of the approach, that her companion on this clear crisp morning must be somewhat handicapped.  She slowed to more closely listen and prepared for a fellow runner exchange of pleasantries.  The gait was loud and uneven, but approached surprisingly quickly.

An expression of bewilderment fell across her face when she realized that her comrade of fitness was none other than a black marshmallow with arms.  No face, no hands were visible on the 8-year-old child who had pulled them safely into his puffy parka warding off the icy air.  Slap-slap-clump-slap-slap-clump sliced the sounds of the quiet AM.  A bundle of buddies hunkered against a wind safe school wall, awaiting the arrival of their pal and the scheduled opening of the doors.

Two steps ahead of her his 40 pound backpack fell from its thigh-high perch to the ground. CLUMP!  In the instant that she thought that perhaps she should offer to help, the pack was swooped from the ground, returned to its perch, and resumed its clumping on the back of the black marshmallow child.  Small feet slap-slapped onward.

The feeling of perky fitness drained from her heart watching this young marshmallow child streak toward his destination, gleefully unaware of the anchor of textbooks strung to him.  She had been lapped.  Cognizant to the fact that she was at full throttle gave way to new inspiration.  "I must kick it into gear if I am to run like a 3rd grader."