No need to impress anyone

Words  419

            As I ran up to a pull-up bar in the middle of the park, one young dude there asked, “Are you a for-EEN-er?”  He needed to repeat his question a couple times before I understood he was saying “FOR-eign-er.” 

            “Yes,” I answered.

            I did some pull-ups and after 10, he said, “You are eating that thing up!”  When I finished, his friend said I could do it differently.
I thought he meant that I should change my hands around—the advice an old Albanian guy gave me at that very spot in December.  I usually do that, but at this time, I didn’t want to lose my concentration. 

            This guy didn’t care about the position of the hands.  In fact, he got annoyed that someone would distract my attention with such drivel.  He wanted me to put my arms farther apart so I would “open” my Latissimi dorsi muscles.  Apparently, since I do the pull-ups in a narrow position I do not stress my Lats.  He showed my his well-formed muscles and made a movement that showed an hour-glass body.  I told him that I am old and I don’t need to impress any women.  He understood and accepted my explanation.  “OK! (Albanian wiggle of the head) You right.  You not need make this exercise.”

            I finished with a pretty good time for the sprint.  I slipped a bit running through some water puddles, and I had to run by a car that was going slowly.  Otherwise, all was great.

            Went out in the evening tonight.  One reason was to avoid the extreme daytime heat.  I figured that a run in the evening might give my body enough time to cover before playing Ultimate on Wednesday at 20:00.  I may have been correct.  One of Oskar’s classmates invited us to the American Embassy ‘Ridge’ where there is a swimming pool; after which, I went to the Ultimate game. 

            We had a great game. I told my teammates that even if they seem me running like a maniac down the field, that they should not m throw it to me.  Why?  Because my eyes are terrible, and since I’m not wearing my glasses, I won’t be able to see anything.  At one point, I ran hell-bent-for-frisbee and slammed into a wall. 

            We held the field for 90 minutes until the supervisor blew his whistle.  We begged for one more point, he agreed, and it was certainly a doozy.  All of us seemed to find an extra reserve of energy to run fast, to block shots, and make great catches.