Sally in the Zen

Confessions of a Befuddled Zen Buddhist

Easter Sunday

Zen Master looked at me with distress. 

“We have to go back to work tomorrow!”  He wailed loudly.

Zen Mum nodded.  “Sucks.”

Yes, my friends, Spring Break 2011 is finally over and the kids are upset.

Spring Break 2011 was a staycation for them, puttering around town and just staying local.

Some time ago, while Zen Master was waiting to pick Zen Mum up from work, he observed a track and field down the hill.  And decided to see if they could use it during their vacation.

Which they did throughout the week, when it wasn’t raining.

So where were we on that beautiful and warm Easter Sunday morning?

Yup, we were trekking all around that track.

After one lap, I stepped it up and mixed in light jogging and power-walking, and when I saw the concrete stairs leading up from the field, I powered up the stairs until I reached the top, huffing and puffing as if I just ran a marathon.  And when I finally caught my breath, I jumped up and punched the air with my fists, hooting and hollering like Rocky.

Because I made it up there without passing out!

Mount McKinley, here I come!

Uh, not.

Anyhoo.

When I caught up with Zen Master and Zen Mum, they were sweating and red-faced. 

And grinning like fools.

“This is better than walking around the neighborhood.”  Zen Master stated as a matter-of-factly. 

“How you figure?”  I asked.

“No pollution from cars driving by.”

Hm.  Never thought about that.

So for an entire hour, we trekked around that track, panting and gasping for breath, puffing with other like-minded people who wanted nothing but a good run.

Zen Master counted twelve laps when we finally called it quits.

Let me state for the record that I am a Zumba fan, shaking body parts that cry in protest. 

I am all about Step Class, stumping and jumping like nobody’s business.

And I live and breathe Body Pump, for I vow to get myself a JLo butt.

I am an athlete who gets ragged but bounces back with always my second wind.

Okay, so I’m using the word athlete quite liberally and loosely.

So when we finally got home, what did I do?

I washed up and went straight to bed.

The kids actually puttered me out.

And my bed never felt so good.

The End.

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