Running for the Ferry

I went to a lovely concert on Toronto Island yesterday. Sunlight streamed through one of the church’s stained glass windows onto the faces of the musicians – violinist, cellist and pianist.  Sweet sounds.

The concert finished with a heartfelt standing ovation around 4:00 pm.  I started chatting with some Islanders, knowing that the next ferry to downtown was at 4:30.  The one after that would be at 5:30.

At 4:10 I decided to bolt for the ferry.  There was no reason in the world why I couldn’t have opted for 5:30 instead.  I could have meandered through the trees and enjoyed the boardwalk back to the ferry dock.  But no … things to do and people to meet.

Two minutes of brisk walking and glances at my pink fitness tracker told me that I wasn’t going to make the ferry.  “Let go, Bruce.  5:30 is a lovely time of day.” However … the  next thing I know, some hidden orchestrator is propelling my feet into the air, otherwise known as running.

“Bruce – stop this!  You’re 69.”

“So?”

“Well, you might wreck yourself.  And then what would happen to your bike trip?”

“Oh, give it a rest.  I’m running and that’s that.  Get out of my way.”

“But you’re wearing a heavy winter coat.  And you’ll be using muscles that haven’t been stretched this way for years.  Plus you may be psychiatrically compromised.”

“What?!  ‘Psychiatrically compromised’?  You’re nuts.  Watch me fly.”

So I flew (sort of).  Graceful like a duck.  Fast as a dozey turtle.  Proud as a peacock.  Run some.  Walk some.  A trotting young couple passed me.  She hollered encouragement.  I saw them fade into my future.  A glance down at my Polar watch.  Four minutes to the whistle blast. More “running”.  No breath.  Ferry in sight.  Whistle. Twenty-five metres.  Crew member with neon vest starting to close the gate.  He sees me.  He stops.  No air and through the gate.  My woman friend is smiling and applauding.  The gold medal is mine.

Ain’t life grand?

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s