Used To

I used to be able to do things. I once walked on my hands down the entire men's hallway of our co-ed dorm, around the corner by the bathrooms, and down the hall of the women's side to knock on the door of a woman in my botany class with my feet. Now I can't walk on my hands (though I can sit on them) or do flips on the grass, or catch the wandering eye of a jogging woman as I run past with my shirt off. I can't eat or drink or pee like I used to. I need to take naps. I have too many bikes, kayaks, too much camping gear, too much of everything that I thought I would have the time, energy, and desire to use and use up. Looks like I only need one bike, if that. Missed the twenty-four hour race, the time trial, El Tour, and the boat that I think I was supposed to catch -- you know, that one on which everyone stays young and the party never ends.