To the Limit

by Jean-Paul Richard

Huayna Picchu, a rock outcropping, rose majestically from the plain of Machu Picchu, a steeple of rock pointing to the sky. I felt fine, a bit winded because of the high altitude, but my sixty-five year old legs were not sore; yet it was another ninety minute climb up a narrow, winding, treacherous path. I looked longingly at the summit, but a gnawing doubt in my gut told me that maybe I had finally reached that age where I couldn’t do it all anymore. I watched as others began the climb, though not without a pang of envy, a twinge of disappointment. “I’m really surprised you didn’t go," my wife said a few minutes later. “I was sure tempted, but maybe I’m just getting smarter as I get older.”


Jean-Paul Richard, a member of the Hamptons Roads Writers Group, enjoys writing short memoirs for his grandkids. He also teaches technical writing to organizations who respond to Federal proposals. He's written articles for Exceptional Parent and Arise.


Anonymous said...

Hey JP, I love this piece. Nice 6S.

Jeanette Cheezum

Anonymous said...

I like that kind of thinking..."smarter" - hmmm, how comforting.

Joe said...

A wonderful read. A man must know his limitations, as Dirty Harry once said. Thankfully, your words aren't affected.

Madam Z said...

Those gol-durned limitations make me crazy! If it's any comfort, Jean-Paul, I'm pretty sure most sets of "sixty-five year old legs" wouldn't have made it anywhere near as far as yours did.