Footloose

Church driveway hill! Whew!

So I’ve been walking to work every day recently. It’s 5 miles, straight uphill each way, so I get quite a bit of exercise. Or at least it feels like that. The reality? I walk 1 ½ miles total, and am always very winded during this journey. For a short while in the past, I walked in the early morning with a few neighbors, but soon stopped, because exertion! But now I’m back on the road, and I have to tell you I love it. By which I mean I have to TELL you I love it, I don’t have to actually love it.

My daily trek can be summed up thusly: downhill on the way there, the opposite on the way home (it would be super great to reverse these experiences, but whatever). I pass a gaggle of middle schoolers headed for Sandy Run. These fine young, backpack-laden people, avert their eyes when they notice me coming, lest we (oh horrors!) engage in conversation. No worries there: I don’t want to talk to anyone on my walkabout anyway.

Other neighbors I encounter include the superhero dog walkers, out in all weather with their pooches. I nod and smile sympathetically as our paths cross, while thanking my lucky stars that none of the (very) few Seyfried pets ever required multiple daily strolls. I have yet to encounter a joyful early morning human-and-dog combo; they all look a bit miserable.

As any good fitness website would tell you, the proper footwear is vital for success. I pay lip service to this concept, and have a perfectly good pair of sneakers I never ever wear. Instead, I’ve taken to wearing my Rothy’s. Rothy’s are really neat, stylish flats; they are very comfortable, and made of all recycled materials. No laces to tie, no blisters yet, and good for the planet too!  I have been trying to justify putting on flip flops for my walks, because they are what I usually wear almost exclusively from April-October, but they don’t really cut the mustard when you are hoofing it.

Beyond perambulation itself, I am on a voyage of discovery. I see things I never noticed driving down. My dear friends the Carlsons have a stone statue of St. Francis with a bowl and birds in their

front yard. Judy Fuhrman decorates the stump of a large tree with seasonal paraphernalia. The Raisches have a Celtic cross on their lawn. There is a random one block stretch of sidewalk (most of the neighborhood has none) that I traverse with enthusiasm, because it marks “almost home” (on the way back).

Here it is nearly December. Winter’s chill will soon be upon us, along with, I imagine, some snow and ice. How dedicated a walker will I be in the frozen months to come? Will I put on some sturdy boots and plunge ahead through the drifts? Or will I take a WELL-deserved hiatus and make like a hibernating bear until Spring?

I’ll give you three guesses.