I miss gymnastics. If I tried now to do the things I could do when I was twelve, I would probably kill myself. I have dreams sometimes in which I’m still as flexible and graceful as I once was, when I could make my body do just about anything effortlessly. It’s a great feeling to wake up to.
Music. I don’t any of my instruments anymore, and I really, really miss them.
I miss camping out in a tent. I did it all the time when I lived in the north, but I’ve spent too many years in southeast Texas, where it’s a miserable thing to do. And now my body just won’t put up with sleeping on the ground anymore, even with a good pad.
I also miss the joy I got flying model airplanes. If I’d have done it a bit longer, I would have had the money to make the jump from line airplanes to radio control. But my interest flagged.
Bike riding. When I was a kid, I was on that bike more than I was on my feet. I went everywhere, discovering secret hiding places, meeting people with birds on their shoulder, going to the library and the store, making the trip to the pond and fishing, going to friend’s houses, taking rides all together…I *lived * on that bike.
Now, I am older. I live in a bigger city. I worry about traffic and bad sidewalks (yes, I bike off the street…too scary for me). People yell, leer and honk at me. There are no secret hiding places to find, no friendly neighbors to meet.
I miss my bike riding days.
Shit, I never knew the side-effects could be that serious!
Making out with 16 year old girls.
Having five weeks summer holiday.
Yep I used to ride the hell out of my bikes. I even rode with my friend down the back roads to my Uncle’s house, it was probably 8 miles away.