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When your legs talk back

I spent a good part of Friday afternoon trying to get my legs to talk to me again.

I did a fair bit of walking at the CN Centre concourse over the past few months, and my legs felt pretty good when I finished each day.

I knew the concourse was going to be closed to walking during the Women’s World Curling Championship, so I was hoping for good weather so I could walk outside in the area around my apartment. The weather was good the last week or so, so I started going for a couple of walks, one in the morning and one in the afternoon.

Again, there was no complaining from my legs.

So on Friday, the first day of accreditation for media for the Women’s World Curling Championship, I decided I would walk over to CN Centre and get my ID. It was a little bit chilly, so I bundled up a bit and headed over.

I wasn’t speedwalking, but I also wasn’t ambling, so it took me about 35 or 40 minutes to get to CN Centre.

The accreditation went smoothly, with the volunteers at the table doing a great job of not throwing me out when they found out I was media. One of them was also not surprised to find that ‘Wishart’ was at the bottom of the last sheet of media names.

Side note: I always tried, but never succeeded in getting teachers in elementary school to do things alphabetically by first name instead of last. I mean, with the first name ‘Allan’ I would have been near the top of the list instead of the bottom.

Back to accreditation.

With my new ID placed carefully in my pocket so it wouldn’t fall out, I decided to head home right away.
I took a bit of a shortcut, going through the area of the Aquatic Centre, so the return trip only took about 30 minutes.

I was happy with my walking, since that was about how much I did most days. I did some work on my computer when I got back home, then went to stand up, at which point my legs went, “Whoa, whoa, whoa! What do you think you’re doing?”

I indicated I was going to get up and go to the kitchen to get a glass of water, and my legs, being suspicious, said, “And that’s all you’re doing? You’re not going for another long walk?”

I said, no, I was just going to get a simple glass of water, then asked, “Why are you so upset? We didn’t walk any more today than we have most days?”
 My legs explained it quite simply.

“Usually you give us a bit of time to rest up between walks. Today we got five minutes. And you ask why we’re upset?”

Eventually we agreed that I would try not to take two walks in that short a period of time in the future, and my legs allowed me to get my glass of water.

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