Some years ago, I had a roommate who, about this time of year, looked at me and noted, “I hate you in the spring.”
More out of curiousity than hurt, I asked why.
She said that in the spring I came home from my teaching and coaching duties only to lift the couch on which she slept soundly. As we watched telenovelas, I inexplicably pounced on her and tickled her until she said, “Chavo.” At dinner, I just nudged her off a chair.
“It’s like I’m being attacked for no reason,” she complained.
I told her it wasn’t for no reason, it was just that in the springtime, when daylight lasts forever, and there’s always a game on where I can swing a bat, throw a ball, and have people chase me, I feel strong. For whatever reason, that means roughhousing ensues.
I agreed to be more gentle with her. She agreed to at least put up something of a fight.
I recalled this exchange today because I felt STRONG!!! I’m not turning my blog into a workout diary, but after running 5 miles and doing a gazillion pushups, all I want to do is pounce.
Thanks for the warning.