A walk in the park. Part five.
This is part five of a series. So if you are really confused by this entry it is either because you have a) not read the other parts or b) you have no idea why on Earth I would consume so much time writing about a walk in the park that took place over five weeks ago now.
Eyes shut tight.
Lungs burning.
Arms heavy.
Legs transforming to a three day old bowl of pudding.
Feet aching.
Strange damp feeling on my forehead...somehow my temple was leaking some clear salty liquid. I heard later that this phenomena is called sweating....
The backdrop of the woodland sounds had faded away, and was now replaced with the uneven thumping of my angry heart. I was over half way on my journey around the lake but time was running out. I had to prevent the old lady in the unfortunate from passing me. Everything depended on it. You might think that I am being a little melodramatic with that statement...but I assure you that I am not. I am never melodramatic. There have only been a few slices of time in my life where I knew that I was in the middle of one of those life defining moments. I knew this was one of them. I knew this was a race that I had to win. I had to win because of what Buddy "The Superhuman" Flock did to me 16 years ago! As the elderly woman made her move to pass me on my right I had the sickening feeling that I have not had since The Superhuman did me wrong...
FLASHBACK.
I am 18 years old and I have hair thicker than Schreech's helmet of scalp fuzz. I am standing on a moldy blue wrestling mat in the Casper Event Center getting ready for my class 2-A state championship match. This was going to be the last match of my seven year wrestling career and it was fitting that it was going to the biggest one I would ever have. As a senior I had gone 32-0 and was gearing up for state championship contest that was going to cap off my amazing year. Keep in mind my success was not due to my skill at wrestling, I have long acknowledged that my athletic skills are comparable to a freshly awakened coma patient. I had done so well because I was competing at a crazy low weight class so I could go up against a bunch of 9th and 10th graders who would not be very polished. Looking back at that I agree that it was a pretty lame move on my part, but ego gets what ego want, right? Ahhh...sweet ego.
I had marched through the state tournament without any real effort. The kids I wrestled had usually lost the match before it even began. They had such a look of anxiety in their eyes when they met me in the middle of the mat. All of them I had solidly beaten throughout the year so they knew that they were in store for a Roedel beat down. It was great for once in my life playing the villain. Before matches I would often ask the person I was going to wrestle if they wanted me to pray with them for quick healing. Opposing coaches, and parents of the freshman I would mop the wrestling mat with did not like me, and would often try to make me feel guilty after wards. I was atop of the small rural school wrestling world..and then came The Superhuman.
"The Superhuman" Buddy Flock was from a very small town called Lingle. Flock had gotten his nickname because of his unnatural skill, agility, and the fact that his arms were as large as my head. He had been wrestling at a higher weight than I was all year. Like me, he was dominating his weight class, but halfway through the year he had gotten ill and was sidelined for a month. When he recovered just before state he had lost a bunch of weight and had to compete in my division. The Superhuman was a year younger than me, but he had lived hard. I would not have been surprised that he spent his off time eating Copenhagen, hunting elk with his bare hands, watching Red Dawn repeatedly, and shaving with the lid of a tin can.
While I knew before we faced off that he would be my toughest competition this season, I also knew that he was still pretty out of shape. He had struggled though the bracket to get into the state championship match, and he did not look like the unstoppable force he had before he had fallen ill. I was prepared for a real contest, but I was also prepared to win. What I got instead, was a beating that left me wondering how my exactly my ankle got wrapped around my bladder...
I remember very little about my encounter with "The Superhuman". Here is what I recall about my final wrestling match of my life.
- That I was confident that I would win.
- I was secretly happy that I would never have to wear the wrestling outfit again. If ever I truly felt like a "Oompa Loompa" it was here.
- That part of me was trying to soak in the atmosphere. I knew that the next few minutes would be a memory I would carry with me from then on.
- When I tried to shake "The Superhuman's" hand he smiled and winked at me. He winked like he knew a secret that I didn't know. It turns out he was right. He knew that he was better than me, and that soon I would tossed around like a little sock in the dryer.
- That as the ref blew the whistle to start the match I for the first time thought "Um...what if I lose?"
- From here out I just remember flashes. I remember in the first few seconds being flipped in the air as if I were a broken pancake who needed to be thrown in the trash.
- Thinking to myself that defeating this foe might be a little too difficult for me.
- I remember seeing the lights of the event center as I laid broken and flat on my back.
- After a few minutes when the match was over I recall picking my self off the mat, and watching "The Superhuman" celebrating his upset victory.
- It dawned on as I was trying to reattach my elbow bone into it's socket that perhaps I did not take the match as seriously as I should have.
Buddy Flock crushed me in a way that left me wondering why exactly I had ever decided to wrestle in the first place. He placed his farm worn hands into my heart and squeezed until I was no longer filled with arrogance. Rather I was left in a puddle of self doubt....
END OF FLASHBACK TRANSMISSION
Self doubt was exactly what I was thinking as the Old Lady in the jumpsuit began to power walk past me on the pathway. I had to make a decision. Was I going to stand up for myself and stop this 70-some year old lady from feeling like she could grind me into a sissy burger like her metaphysical doppleganger had done on that wrestling match years ago? Or would I give myself the excuse by saying "walking faster than a person who remembers what she wore to prom in 1951 might be a little to difficult for me".
As she pushed past me I called upon all the movie clichés I could come up with to provide inspiration.
I thought about Rocky as he stood up to Ivan Drago at the end of round 1.
I thought about Daniel Larusso defeating the Cobra Kai despite his leg being swept by Johnny.
I thought about Jimmy Chitwood hitting the game winning shot for Hickory.
I thought about Roy Hobbs hitting the game winning home run while suffering incredible physical pain.
I thought about that young dude who eats all those hot dogs on the 4th of July. How it often looks like he is about to quit, but then he finds another small space available in one of his apparently 8 stomaches. Ok...not a movie reference...but still I thought I would mention it. To be honest it kind of creeps me out. Not sure why I am bringing it up here. I am sure I will edit this part out...
I knew that if I let the senior pass me I would probably make official that I would forever be the poster child for "5'3 pudgeish men who gave up on life, ate pork skins, and got common-lawed married to his xbox 360. I knew that if I was going to stand up for myself it would have to begin right now on the final turn around my lap around the park. At this point the lady was now a good three steps ahead of me. (side note: one normal step equals about four and a half Roedel steps....this has been measured by experts from The Institute of Science and Walking.) A wave of defeat washed over me like that I had not felt since the Superhuman broke me into six pieces and juggled me in front of the packed audience.
It was over.
I was tired.
My feet hurt.
There was no way I could catch the old lady in the red hat....
As hopeless filled my heart like Tom Arnold in a bad sitcom something happened. I had my first vision. It was of John McCain and Barack Obama. They appeared almost as ghosts floating above my sweaty lumbering body. They were smiling and had there arms around each others shoulders. My first thought was that my McDonald's loving heart had exploded and I was being dying. I remember feeling nervous that I had not Q-tipped my ears really well in the morning and that I was certain the coroner would probably make a comment. Before my thoughts to my afterlife could continue the two ghostly presidential candidates spoke in unison.
MCCAIN/OBAMA - John Roedel. Do not quit walking.
ME- I can't do it. I think I pulled my fat muscles, plus her lead is too much.
MCCAIN/OBAMA - There is a lot of work to do. But together we can catch her!
ME - No we can't.
MCCAIN/OBAMA - YES WE CAN!
ME- No. I just want a Twix Bar.
MCCAIN/OBAMA -JOHN, YOU HAVE EATEN ABOUT 30,987 TWIX BARS TOO MANY. YES WE CAN!!
ME- Maybe I will come back tomorrow and try to beat her. There is no way that-
MCCAIN/OBAMA - YES WE CAN!
ME- Well....maybe I can try.
MCCAIN/OBAMA - YES WE CAN!!!
ME- yes I can? That is kind of a lame catch phrase...
MCCAIN/OBAMA - We will send you to Pakistan if you don't say it!
ME- Um..yes I can.
MCCAIN/OBAMA -Say it louder. YES WE CAN!!!
ME - YES I CAN! YES I CAN! YES I CAN!
MCCAIN/OBAMA - Now go and walk faster than the woman who probably should be using a walker!
ME - Yes I can!!!
Then as quickly as they had appeared they were gone. I was left now five steps behind the old lady with only about 100 yards left to the end of the lap around the lake. I was not going to quit. I was going to beat her. Yes...I could. I thanked my spiritual non-partisan brothers for inspiring me and I put my wee legs into overdrive.
I felt muscles rip, and bones crackle as I walked faster than I had in years. My arms shot up and down like moving pistons in a finely tuned sports car while my lungs rasped out the used fall air from my heaving lungs. This was my one moment in time! This was my now! This was my chance to stand up to a person who thought that I would cave like a five year old with a secret.
With every clump of my hobbit shoes hitting the hard pavement, and thump of my stretching heart I had caught up to the Elderly woman. As I tried to pass her from her left I saw he turn her neck and see my comeback. The look on her face was that of pure surprise. The expression of surprise was soon replaced with a cold glance and a furrow of her wrinkled brown. She gave me the look that said..."bring it on chubbs.".
I just smiled and gave her the "Superhuman" wink.
There was only 75 yards left until the end of the lap, and the race was on.
Yes I can.....
Hilarious! Bring on Part 6, please!!!!
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