i had you

I HAD YOU

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I was the oldest in the room today.

Forty three.
Still jumping.
Still soaked through.
Still finishing strong.

Forty high knees each leg.
Twenty lunge jumps each leg.
Twenty frog jumps.
No break.
Thirty straight minutes of movement.

The last jump looked mostly like the first.

I flexed in the mirror after.
Out of gratitude.

I thought about my friend Mac.
He used to work out all the time.
He was one of the first people that made strength look possible to me.

He still pushes me through sets.

I thought about my grandmother’s room.
Old exercise bike to my left.
King size bed to my right.
Virtual sessions between hospital updates.
Less jumping that year.
More breathing.
More blood moving.

I did not have to train then.
But I did.

I did not have to train today.
But I did.

The phone was on the counter.
Locked.
Before the call connected.

You climbed onto your House of Noa couch.
Hands pressed into the cushions.
You looked up at the dark screen.

The screen lit.
Dr. Monica appeared.

You did not wave.
You did not say hi the way adults say hi.
You just smiled.

It was just us in the room.
Your mother.
You.
And me jumping in the middle of our life.

I had you.

And I worked out so you could have me.