Sunday, August 5, 2012

Scraped Knees

Monotony convinces me that I am weak.
That I am delicate and incapable.
Only a few wise thoughts here and there.
Mostly abstract.

The routine I find myself in for most of the year instructs me to play small.
To game it up here and there, but at the given and appropriate times.
We do indoor things.
We play card games.
We use our inside voices.
My nails grow long.
As does my leg hair because it's rarely seen.
My limbs are clean and scrape-free.
My skin becomes a pale white.
My one-piece swimsuit lines disappear.

My movement is restricted mostly to planned events.
Six AM workouts.
Frisbee at the park.
Intramurals.

But camp is different.

At camp, the sun loads me up with enough vitamin D to nearly overdose.
Opportunities arise without a moments notice.
I move. A lot.
I play hard.
I eat to fuel my muscles.
I crash and burn.
I run and dodge.
I get dirt under my finger nails.









I go skinny dipping.
That just doesn't happen in Nebraska most the time.
I am drained by the sun and the sweat.
Showers soothe the aches and the bruises.
And I crash into my bed exhausted and ready for rest.































Yes, camp is good at reminding me how very capable I am.
I can learn to wake surf.
I can climb stuff.
I can play hard.

So, here's to sunning it up in Nebraska.
To more nights under the stars.
To making time for physical challenges.
To testing my body (outside of the gym).
To trying new things.

Here's to adventure.