My shoulders are sore.
Growing up, I loved spending time hanging from trees, running obstacle courses in my yard, and jumping around playground equipment. I climbed up the outside of spiral (actually helical, but what's in a name?) slides, dangled from the outside railings around my grandparents' deck, and used any narrow flat surface as a balance beam. By the time I was in middle school, I felt that there wasn't anything that I couldn't do.
Today, the closest that I get to the same feeling is when playing Assassin's Creed. There is a middle-school portion of my brain that believes the actions of Altair, Ezio, Connor, and Edward are realistic, and that (with mild practice) I would be capable of doing the same things.
On Tuesday, I watched as my youngest child had similar thoughts while playing on various playground equipment at both Ella Sharp Park and the St. Mary's school parking lot. Watching him play with enthusiasm (and still some caution in higher locations), filled me with nostalgia. One set of monkey bars was built sturdily enough to hold my weight, so I dangled from them for a few moments, quickly coming to the realization that I could not even pull myself up half way to a chin up, let alone swing from one bar to the other. In my mind, I remembered being able to pull myself up and flip over to the top of the bars.
It seemed so tantalizingly close, but instead I think I might have pulled something.
Growing up, I loved spending time hanging from trees, running obstacle courses in my yard, and jumping around playground equipment. I climbed up the outside of spiral (actually helical, but what's in a name?) slides, dangled from the outside railings around my grandparents' deck, and used any narrow flat surface as a balance beam. By the time I was in middle school, I felt that there wasn't anything that I couldn't do.
Today, the closest that I get to the same feeling is when playing Assassin's Creed. There is a middle-school portion of my brain that believes the actions of Altair, Ezio, Connor, and Edward are realistic, and that (with mild practice) I would be capable of doing the same things.
On Tuesday, I watched as my youngest child had similar thoughts while playing on various playground equipment at both Ella Sharp Park and the St. Mary's school parking lot. Watching him play with enthusiasm (and still some caution in higher locations), filled me with nostalgia. One set of monkey bars was built sturdily enough to hold my weight, so I dangled from them for a few moments, quickly coming to the realization that I could not even pull myself up half way to a chin up, let alone swing from one bar to the other. In my mind, I remembered being able to pull myself up and flip over to the top of the bars.
It seemed so tantalizingly close, but instead I think I might have pulled something.
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