Warming Up

One second I’m locked in a sprint, the next—wait, my fingers actually twitch! I loosen that tight front fist, flexing each knuckle just to see if the motor is running. Sure enough, the fabric underneath crinkles as my palm presses down against the smooth, woven weave. Not bad at all. I roll my shoulders, lean into the angle, and give the cloth surface a quick, firm tap. Looks like I’m officially off the starting line.