New York Minute 103 - Post-Run Stretch

After my morning run yesterday, I stopped to stretch my legs at the steps of one of the townhouses on my street. I do this all the time. My building doesn’t have an external staircase, and the neighbors don’t seem to mind. I shudder to think what might happen if I stopped by a strange house in small town America and tried stretching there, but I digress.

Lots of people were outside on this warm, clear day. As I was stretching, a woman walked past holding a young girl by the hand. I didn’t notice them as the passed me, as my back was turned, and I was in mid stretch. But ten or so paces down the sidewalk, they stopped and turned to look back in my direction.

The child was about three or four years old with big head of curly blond hair. She looked like Shirley Temple, but a little younger than we remember her from the movies. Apparently, she was curious as to why this large, sweaty, gray-haired man in shorts was twisting himself into awkward positions on a staircase.

“He’s stretching,” the lady explained, as she flashed a warm smile. I assume that she was the child’s grandmother, as she was about my age. The girl was so cute. She looked predictably confused. The ponderous look on her cherubic face was priceless.

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