Hand. Hand. Foot. Foot.

When I was a kid, I liked to do cartwheels. I could do them from one side of the back yard to the other without stopping. I haven't done one for many years, though. In honor of the first summery day of the year today I did cartwheels in the back yard.

I was pretty sure I'd still be able to do it, but just in case I took my shoes off and tried a practice one first in the basement where no one could see me. It went pretty well, so I moved outside. The ground still felt pliable, not hard and brittle like it will be in the middle of summer, and the grass was soft against my feet. Before I started, I took a quick glance at all the yards surrounding mine to make sure there was no one to watch me.

The coast was clear, so I raised my arms straight above my head, stepped forward with my left leg, and looked down to where my hands would go. I reached down with the left hand, than the right one, and kicked my legs up in the air. The momentum pulled my body up and over. I landed on one foot, then the other, and straightened up. I looked around; there was still no one outside to see me.

The first one was pretty awkward, but I think I managed to get my legs straight up in the air. After two it started feeling more natural. I did several before I started getting winded and stopped. I suspect I'll have some sore muscles tomorrow, but the pain will be worthwhile. I'm happy to know I could still do it.