Round Robin

Last summer I was out one evening jogging off some post-baby poundage. The loop I ran took me down a hill, around a park, up a large flight of stairs to the top of the hill and back down to the beginning.

I started up the stairs at the end of the first loop and saw a young man climbing up just ahead of me. I guessed him to be about 12 years old. The black t-shirt he wore stretched tightly across a plump back and bunched in taut folds above baggy jeans. A plentiful tummy moved side to side as he toddled up each step. Quite overweight, he struggled with the task.

Soon I was level with him and he turned to acknowledge me. Red and moist with exertion, and with a pained grin, he noted, "These stairs. . .are hard."

"Yeah, they're tough," I replied. I too was feeling the burn.

"I do these stairs. . .every day," he said.

"That's awesome," I said.

We reached the top and rounded a corner onto the street, heading back down the hill. He then set down a skateboard he'd been carrying under one arm and said,"Well, see you in a minute." His wheels whirred and clunked as he coasted away. He lapped me once on our loop and then caught up to me as I headed up the stairs a second time.

"It's good to get exercise," he announced. "I'm going to lose 50 pounds."

"Oh yeah?" I replied.

"Yep."

"Walk up and skateboard down, huh? Sounds pretty fun."

"Yeah, it's hard though. These stairs. . .are hard."

"Well good for you. You're doing awesome," I said.

"Thanks."

He rolled off again and I jogged down the hill and home. Caleb and I chuckled about my new friend and we named him Jeffrey. I saw Jeffrey from time to time on my way to the grocery store. There he'd be, coasting down the street wearing a pleasant expression.

Then autumn came, and then winter. And then today the sun was here with real intent, and the neighborhood woke up. And as I stood, painting the inside frame of my front bedroom window, I heard a whirring and a clunking from the street below. And there was Jeffrey, thin as a pin, rolling past my house. On his face a peaceful smile, no longer encumbered by pudgy cheeks on either side.

Well done Jeff. Well done.

I'm reminded of a little story I once read. Maybe you know it?