Streaking with Friends

 Post-chemo flesh and bones

s t r e a k i n g
on a trampoline,

stark naked
relief
fueling every one of my steps.

photo by Jasper Garratt on, Unsplash
(these aren’t my feet or my mini-trampoline or my pretty anklet, but the photo shows one of the things I love most about running on a trampoline: I can run [and bounce!] barefoot without hurting my back or knees or feet)

- an old friend (who recently had a heart attack and is now trying to get his weight under control) sent me an email with the subject line, “Let’s go streaking all over the city!” Don’t feel too terrible if his word choices filled your skull with images of naked people running around New York City dodging piles of snow, yellow taxis, and bewildered cops. It’s the first thing I thought about, too. After further reading, I figured out that my friend hadn’t turned into a nudist overnight; no, nothing that deliciously scandalous, he just wanted to start running every day. My flesh and bones and I haven’t run on pavement in ages (my back, hips, knees can no longer take that kind of abuse). So, I declined the “streaking all over the city” bit. But, since I can benefit from losing a pound (or 31), I said yes to a running streak on my trampoline.

- for Poets and Storytellers United (Writers’ Pantry #57: Infinite Variety).