Life tugs at me with many questions. Last month my mind took flight and pondered the notion time moves in slow motion when young but when slipping beyond sixty, the years fly by without allowing a person to enjoy an idle day. Options dwindle and the body becomes heavy with the burden of memories. The body even groans at the slightest exertion causing a person to assume it must be a sign of old age.

Finally, my mind hits upon the problem. Hamstrings! Yes, I conclude, our hamstrings have tightened to the point of snapping us to the ground, no longer allowing us the freedom of movement taken for granted in our youth. In an effort to test my theory, I flung my foot upon the kitchen counter, which in itself was an embarrassing act of will that fortunately no one was around to see. I bent over my upended leg and tried to touch my nose to my knee while holding onto my foot. When younger, I could easily slip into many yoga poses designed to keep the hamstrings loose, make movement a pleasure instead of a chore the body eventually resists, sighing noisily over every step.

Day after day, I inched my nose closer to my knee. Finally, a victory occurred after two weeks of not only being able to lay easily across the length of my leg but also touch my nose to my knee. I began walking with a spring in my step. I now touch the floor with the palms of my hands, slip into a squat and look into my dog’s eyes. Time spun around on itself and returned my youthful grin, brought back my rhythm, expanded my options, and dusted off my tap shoes. Now, I go about my day living in that earlier slow-motion way, no grass growing under my feet, just me spending my time smokin’ on the easiness of my hamstrings.

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