So, I’m walking around Shelley Lake in North Raleigh and coming toward me down a hill at breakneck speed is a kid, maybe 9 or 10 years old, on a micro scooter. Coming up behind me is a slow-moving jogger, probably in his mid-to-late 70s, who shuffles and hobbles more than he actually jogs, but both the shuffle and the hobble have spunk. This is what the two had to say as they went by me — the younger one with a daredevil shout and a whoosh, the older one with a grin and a nod.

The kid: “I’m gonna diiiiiiiiie!”

The man: “He’s having a blast.”