19150319 18:41:08

CQ-N-8257

19150319 18:41:08

"OK Dad, I think I'm ready."
Gregory Humeski looked his soon over and gave a nod to reassure his son, but he still didn't understand what exactly he was trying to do. He reconsidered and realized that perhaps the question of what he was trying to accomplish would be more accurate. There he stood with the handle of the red wagon tied with a length of rope to his waist, and a stack of twelve cinder blocks in the payload. His son wanted to do some kind of exercising sprints here, sure - but why? It wasn't for any kind of school assignment or something that he wanted to do in reaction to another friend doing the same. Greg stood there with a beer in one hand and a pocketwatch in the other while wondering where his son even got this idea from. When William spoke to him, he quickly snapped back to attention.
"So OK, you said about seven houses away should be good, right? So first I'm going to go empty, and you'll time me. Uh. How will, uh. Oh uh what I'll do is yell 'go' when I'm ready to go so that you know when to start timing me."
"No, no Will, that's backwards. We'll do this like the they do in the Olympics. Sort of. You go down there and be ready, and when I yell 'go' to you is when you start. And the stop line is right where you're standing, yes?"
"Yep!"
"All right, well, get ready I guess." Greg couldn't help but shake his head and softly laugh as he watched his son drag the loaded cart to the intended starting point. Once he reached the spot, William started to remove the cinder blocks one at a time; Greg yelled at him to put the blocks on the sidewalk after he placed the first one in the yard nearby. Once the wagon was cleared, Greg heard him should "OK" in the distance. He looked to the watch and waited for the second hand to complete the lap to the 12 marker.
"Go!"
William took off in a mad dash and the rope snapped the wagon in tow behind him. It wasn't long until the wheels lost track and the cart flipped over to its side, but William continued to run as fast as he can. The street echoed with the sound of metal scraping against concrete as he careened towards his father. He finally crossed the line.
Gregory looked to his son with his brow furrowed in perplexity after he marked the count on the watch when he crossed.
"Sixteen seconds. Not too bad."
"OK. OK." William stated this acknowledgement after getting the wagon back on its wheels and walking back towards the cinder blocks with bated breath. Once there, he placed two inside the wagon, then stood still and stared back at his father to show his being ready.

(continued with doubling of time, &c.)