After my new pedometer sat on the kitchen counter mocking me for about a week, I finally decided it’s time to get off my ass and train for this 60-mile walk. The last time I walked for Susan G. Komen, it was only 5 miles. (Although I should note that our team started the walk early – no sense standing around – and of course set out in the wrong direction. We met the other walkers head-on about 3/4 of the way to the finish/start line.) So I set out to walk a couple of days ago. We live on a golf course (if you play golf in the woods) so choosing my path was easy. I figured I’d do 2 laps, which should be 3 miles, and call it a day. You should have seen me out there. For the first 200 yards or so, I was all Jackie Joyner-Kersee. After that, I was more Estelle Getty-ish.
I ran into a couple of our local firefighters during my walk, so naturally I had to stop and talk/flirt. I was comforted to know they were out there with me, as I could have collapsed at any moment and I’d have EMT’s at the ready.
I could hardly move the next morning. Not my legs – they were fine. It was my shoulders. I totally forgot that I flail my arms when I walk briskly. I must have looked like I was about to take flight out there. I hope the firefighters didn’t notice. Anyway, if you’re wondering how I could forget such an important detail, it’s because my arms are usually weighted down with a purse/shopping bags/cell phone/child. So there’s one more thing for me to worry about – not flailing. This 3-day walk is getting complex.
On the bright side, two guys in a golf cart passed me and one yelled “A NEW VIAGRA!” I wasn’t sure whether I should be offended or flattered or both, but you can be sure I spent the rest of the walk obsessing over what it meant. Also, I visited the fire station yesterday afternoon, with little G in tow. (Don’t judge me; the firefighters invited me and I didn’t want to seem ungrateful for their service to our community.) And in case you’re wondering, M is okay with my flirting with firefighters/law officials/football players/UPS men/mailmen/old guys/boys on boats/motorcycle dudes, etc. Anytime someone else has to listen to me besides himself, he considers a victory.
-
You crack me up! Okay, should I wear some kind of body armor if I’m going to be walking near you??
-
Stephanie, fret not! I am working on holding my hands to my sides. Today I carried my cell phone and keys to weigh them down. My bigger issue is the $2300. I have commitments for more $ but still not up to the goal. I may have to do a car wash like the high school cheerleaders do. Although I wouldn’t look nearly as cute in a bikini.
-
You go, girl, with that speed walking!! Not to sound all gender static, but with my four year old son, I can accost firefighters on the street and asked to be LET INTO THEIR TRUCK…and look like a doting parent.
-
You go, girl, with that speed walking!! Not to sound all gender static, but with my four year old son, I can accost firefighters on the street and ask to be LET INTO THEIR TRUCK…and look like a doting parent.
-
Pingback from Perpetratin’ Tippi Hedren | Subourbon Wife on June 1, 2010 at 1:08 pm
5 comments
Comments feed for this article
Trackback link: http://www.subourbonwife.com/2010/05/27/i-am-the-new-viagra/trackback/