Things I See in the Park

I walk every day in a local park that has a walking track. The following are some of the things that run through my mind whilst I lament not having remembered my MP3 player again.. and thus have nowhere for my mind to be other than.. here.

Runner Barbie: Her pony tail is perfect, it sits high on her head, her ear buds never fall out and probably don't get sweaty, her little sports-bra-tank-top clings just right to her body showing no strain in keeping things secure and her little shorts are just that, little. I love her shoes, they match her outfit and her tan is near perfect, I say 'near' because there /has/ to be a blemish somewhere, right? I cling to that hope.

Runner Ken-Wannabe: His shorts are baggy and worn over spandex ones, thank you, Ken, for the cover-up. He is shirtless today and his tummy is sucked in, so much so that it is amazing he can breath. You can tell it's not a natural position because instead of there being a nice flatness from chest to abdomen, it is concave, from having been forcibly deflated while he tries to run. He is also tan and will probably hyperventilate at some point.

Uni-Jogger: The first time I saw him I immediately thought of the sketches of the unibomber.. it's over 70 degrees, he's wearing a full sweat suit, hood up, jacket zipped over a rather large, barrel belly. He's not going for the "Ken" facade, no, but his little legs are barely moving, he must be trying to give himself a heart attack. He's no taller than me and twice as round.. did I mention full sweat suit?

Geriatric Gerry: These guys make me feel guilty. I am walking. They are 'jogging'. Granted they have support socks and bands at their knees and elbows, a water bottle on each hip, which has probably been replaced.. but they are jogging..shuffling quickly anyway and they lap me. So.

Skater Boy: Goggles, knee pads, elbow pads, spandex suit, in-line skates, one hand on his back, bent over with the other arm swinging. Training for the Olympics? He's at least 60.

I know I know.. these are probably all very nice people whom I'd be lucky to call friend. And to be honest, I'm probably on their list...

Clinging-To-Youth Walker:

My tank top isn't fitted, my shorts are to my knees,
My shoes don't match my outfit and I have no MP3.
My hair is in need of dying, I forgot my H2O,
I'm texting while I'm walking, or talking on the phone.
I'm 41 and counting, the scale my enemy,
But when I finally reach my goal.. I'm having a dessert or three!