My legs weren’t talking to me for most of Monday.
Well, they were talking, but it was more moaning in pain.
You see, I found myself on Thanksgiving Monday with absolutely nothing on my schedule. I had gone out and voted on Saturday morning, so that was out of the way, and we had Thanksgiving dinner on Sunday afternoon.
So when I woke up Monday, I saw nothing on my schedule, and I decided to try something I had thought about for a while, since I moved to my new apartment.
I’m now near the corner of Fifth Avenue and Tabor Boulevard. I had walked down to Cafe Voltaire a couple of times to build up an appetite for tea and a muffin, but Monday I went for something a bit more venturesome.
I wanted to walk straight down Fifth Avenue for an hour, then walk back. It would be good exercise, and I was interested in seeing how far I could get.
I should tell you I enjoy walking, and I probably walk faster than most people, even when I’m just walking for fun, like Monday.
There are times when I will amble or mosey, but most of the time, if I’m walking, it’s at a pretty good pace.
It’s not race-walking or even what I think of as ‘fast’ walking, but I do move right along.
One person I have learned through bitter (and painful) experience not to keep up with in my Mom. She walks every day and sets a very good pace. I can keep up with her when we walk together, but it isn’t easy.
When our family went on summer vacations years ago, we frequently went out for a walk in the evening. Mom and I always ended up quite a ways in front, without really meaning to.
I figured out some time later how it happened like that. Mom is a fair bit shorter than me, and we would set out on the walk at a normal pace. I would unconsciously notice how fast Mom was walking in terms of how quick her steps were, and I would step up my pace.
Since I had longer legs, this now meant I was getting ahead of her, so she would speed up her pace, and then I would, and the next thing you knew, the two of us were half a mile ahead of the rest of the family.
But Monday, I was by myself. I made sure I had my cellphone and enough money for a cab if the weather turned bad, and set out at a normal pace.
I made it to about Fourth Avenue and Dominion Street in just under an hour, turned around and walked back home.
I felt good when I got home, but a short time later, my legs started complaining, and they didn’t let up for quite a while.
I told them they better get used to it, because I intend to do this on a regular basis, even if means sometimes suffering the agony of de-feet.