For the last couple of months, I have been doing quite a bit of walking, mostly to work, but also just for groceries, or to the pharmacy two blocks away. I’d love to say it’s a choice made for my health, or to make a “greener” impact on the environement. All of that would be a lie. I am forced to walk by circumstance.
To make it all worse, you’d think with all that walking (at least a mile going both ways, roughly every other day) would have made me lose some weight. So far, though, nearly nothing. My legs are in slightly better shape, but the ole mid-section hasn’t changed a bit.
Nonetheless, there is an advantage to walking, as opposed to all that driving most of us do on a daily basis. For one thing, one is not limited to the established paved path: one can go across the grass, cut corners, shorten the route (or lengthen it, for that matter) as one wills. There is no traffic to fight (except the occasional bicyclist riding illegally on the sidewalk, when one has no choice but to walk by the road).
There is the opportunity to look up, too. The other day, I saw the oddest pattern of contrails in the sky, they would have … fascinated, shall we say, my father-in-law.
There’s a difference, however, between walking voluntarily and doing so because you have to. Rain or shine, if I have to go to work, or need to pick up groceries, there I am, trudging by the side of the road. True, it’s cheaper than paying for gas (even at less than $2.00 a gallon); it’s better for the environment and for my health. Nonetheless, the fact still remains.
I hate walking.
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