Saturday was the day my legs left me.
Not literally, of course, but they left a note saying if I was going to go out again Saturday evening, I would be going without them.
See, they kind of felt they had already put in a full day’s work by then, and I really can’t blame them.
I got up around 5 a.m. Saturday and decided to go out for a short walk. You know, just to get the blood flowing, get some fresh air.
That wasn’t a problem. My legs seemed to enjoy that expedition.
A little later in the morning, I decided since I needed to pick up a few things at Spruceland, that I would walk down. I wasn’t going to be carrying a 20-kilogram bag of flour home or anything like that.
I got ready to go, opened the door and found myself staring at a bit of snow and a fair bit of wind.
I stepped back inside, closed the door and reconsidered the situation. I ultimately (after about 10 seconds) decided to drive over to Spruceland and do my shopping, then go for a good walk later in the day.
I followed this plan perfectly, noting perversely as I exited the store that it had stopped snowing.
I went home, spent a bit of time on the computer, then decided after looking outside that it looked like a good time to go for a walk.
As we set off down Fifth Avenue, my legs were still in good humour about getting some more exercise. I walked down Fifth to Ahbau with a bit of a breeze basically behind me, then turned on Ahbau and headed over to 15th Avenue.
About now my legs were starting to complain just a little. They weren’t used to this much exercise at one time. Normally, I will walk for a while, stop for a while (like to do some shopping), then continue walking.
This, however, was a continuous walk. When I turned to head up 15th Avenue, my legs had subsided to a sort of dull moping about all the work they were having to do.
Heading down Tabor, they perked up a bit, realizing, I think, that we were close to home. As I walked into the parking lot at the apartment, they were actually talking to me again.
Then we had to go up the stairs to get to the apartment, and my legs started hurting. They didn’t mind all the flat walking we had been doing, but this uphill at the end was a bit much.
I lay back in my recliner for a while, getting a bit of a rest. I guess I must have drifted off, because when I woke up was when I found the note from my legs about not going on any more walks that day.
I decided a couple of things as I read the note. First, I wasn’t going to test their resolve that day.
Second, I wasn’t going to tell them about my plans for walking on Sunday.
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