I was excited to go to the gym last night. After a day at work, all I wanted to do was throw up 5 clubs a few times and let the stress of the day fall to the floor. But my excitement was quickly crushed after I walked into the gym. Fifty young children covered the gym floor running back and forth with basketballs. A charming community center scene but crushing to a hopeful juggler.
Sure, I could have staked my claim in the corner and went along with my practice in spite, but I could already hear the comments from the parents and kids in the room–Where are the chainsaws? How long have you been practicing? How many is that? Can I try? Can you do 7? Do you do parties?–and I just didn’t feel like dealing with it.
Defeated, I left the gym.
But on my way to my car I made a discovery. A gated soccer field adjacent to the gym was emitting a soft glow. No one was on the field and yet a few of the lights illuminated small pockets of grass around the corners. Surprised that I had never noticed this field at night, I searched around until I found a way in and walked across the dark field to my very own piece of grass. Feeling slightly victorious, taking a deep breath of the cool fall air, I took out my clubs, threw them up and had a great, refreshing practice.