Translation: I like going really really fast.

My mom said something last night that made me feel incredibly happy.

"You should join track. You'd be good at it."

It is very rare that someone tells me I am good at any sport. For the most part, no one even bothers lying to make me feel better, because they know I'll see through it. I am not athletic. Point final, end of story. I enjoy sports, but no one picks me first for their team, and I can't blame them.

Maybe the reason I hated being called a nerd was because it was so close to the truth. (If nerds are people who like LOTR and prog rock and suck at basketball, count me in. Hey, I've even played Pac-Man!) But I'm getting off-topic again and should probably give some examples to illustrate my lack of athletic ability.

I love swimming (the water is the only place I could ever possibly be called graceful), but I'm slow. I love soccer, but I have no aim. I like volleyball and tennis, but my utter lack of ability has often forced me to seek out a court where I'm not always the worst one (anyone for badminton?). I have no endurance, for which Kelsey is probably deeply shamed on my behalf. I certainly can't dance -- it is impossible for me to walk down the third floor hallway without stepping on/running into/tripping over someone.

But sprinting, like biking and skiing, involves a sudden burst of immense speed and a short length of time. This I might be able to do. I wouldn't be the best, but I dare to dream that I would not be the worst.

It might have to wait for now, though. It snowed again last night, and I have never been this excited to get on the slopes.

It's too bad my priorities and my obligations contradict one another.