My eyes glazed open as all my worries were set aside and buried. As I moved toward my destination, my gleaming eyes lit up the empty, echoing room. .
I ran back up my stairs with much difficulty. My legs seemed as a Jell-O mold that globed back and forth. As I was ripping apart my closet I found my rouged jean pants and my black long sleeve shirt with a bright blue logo on the front. The logo consisted of the letters "B" and "M" but the last letter was covered by the dirt that makes my life exciting. I grabbed my backpack, which hugged my back like a pair of toe socks. I opened the bag to pull out my knee saver pads, followed by a pair of supper grip gloves, which were custom made to fit my hands. I ran down the first five steps and then made an amazing leap hitting my legs against the wooden paneled walls, and having all the items in my hands fall to the ground. Without any thought I put on the armor and lifted the item my eyes had popped out of their sockets for. With the two wheels spinning I carried its chrome frame up the stairs and out the door, not realizing the blood relatives in the household were in total rage at the action that was taking place. I hopped down the last three stairs to feel the heat of the sun against my neck and face, followed by a light breeze that made the day perfect in every way. .
For the first time in the month of October, the temperature felt as if I lived in Florida. I lightly placed my body's weight on to my left leg, which had found itself onto the steel pedals that gripped the sole of my shoe. In the next few moments, I found myself riding away in slight harmony with my surroundings. Up and down. Up and down my body moved as I pedaled as hard as my couch potato body could move. After a long, yet relaxing ride, I had reached my destination of the area of dirt they call Hooligans. Hooligans consisted of many mounds of dirt, neatly packed so the task of being launched into the air and landing safely onto an opposite-facing mound could be done.
