The Skipping Regime

I needed a skipping rope. I had talked about it so much E, my daughter, was also on a look out for one for me. The plan was to buy one over the weekend. 

On our ride home, this coincidence I believed was truly God sent, happened, especially when I had never seen a roadside hawker selling skipping ropes. It was too good to be true, when E shouted,

“Mum he is selling skipping ropes.”

I really could not believe my luck. 

I quickly beckoned him over and asked how much it cost.

“Fifteen Ghana cedis,” he said. 

I would normally have bargained, but this time I knew how much this was going to be part of my regime, so I happily paid for my find and stashed it in my bag. We drove off when the traffic light changed.

I was amazed and even remembered exactly what the hawker looked like. A frail elderly man perhaps shrunk by the heat of the  sun, bent over a bit, in his oversized, faded blue gingham shirt. He was also donning a black top hat similar to the magician’s. The skin on his face folded and dark like worn leather, possibly caused by thinking. He inspected the car to see who and why. He must have wondered who would be using the rope and why it was so needed. I guess he saw how elated the buyer was and felt satisfied he had gotten rid of one of his wares. I wonder if he ever thinks of the impact of his wares. 

The satisfied buyer could not wait to show off. I wanted E, to know that I meant business. 

The following morning, I started off gently, twenty skips, then another twenty. The target was one hundred a day. I managed that in tens until I got to the bitter end. I should have known as when I got to forty, I felt a pain in my knee, which I totally ignored. That is when I remembered the pain in my knee that surfaced over a year ago, with visits to the hospital and after some minor treatment had disappeared. 

I showed off that I had managed the one hundred skips and this was going to be my daily routine. A few hours later, I started to limp! The excitement of skipping may not be such a good idea. This left me feeling deflated, leaving me thinking about my other options.

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10 thoughts on “The Skipping Regime

  1. I wish I could skip
    this rope, with you;
    in rhythmic beat
    to the woven weave
    of the angled sounds
    of this busy street,
    but my feet don’t hop
    like they used to once hip,
    so I’ll stand from the side
    and just watch you skip

    — a poetic comment, inspired by your post — evin

    Liked by 2 people

  2. Skipping rope or so much fun! I know why you had such enthusiasm for it, it brings us back to our childhoods I guess. My school does a jump rope for heart event and this year a student taught me to cross the ropes in front while I jump. I acted like a fourth-grader when I finally did it. Maybe you and your daughter can take up another youthful activity like dancing or bike riding?

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Oh, no! I hope you recover soon and can find the skipping rhythm in your day-to-day before too long. The description of the hawker is deliciously detailed and rich. I can see him and wonder along with you about the stories that may reside in the lines on his face.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. You capture the meeting of anticipation and reality beautifully…I could relate to the confluence of this in my own life, when I feel my almost-50 years square off with my expectations on occasion.

    Liked by 1 person

  5. I’ve been thinking a lot about how our lives intersect with others and your question “I wonder if he ever thinks of the impact of his wares.” really resonates with me. I can also relate to the anticipation vs. reality thread that runs through your piece. Hope your knee feels better and you can resume jumping soon.

    Liked by 1 person

  6. Ah! J, hope your knees hold out enough to bring you the joy that the first part of your slice conveys. So many great details, I can really see the hawker, and sense his wonder at your excitement. Give E a hug for me and healing thoughts straight to your knees! 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

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