Does walking make sense?

At one point in my blog-life I would have assumed all my wonderful faithful readers were sitting at their computers reading my Blog.  But now that phones got so smart, you could just as easily be standing in the long line waiting to checkout at Walmart and reading my post.  So fair warning; you should really be sitting down when you read this next sentence.  It will shock and astound you.   I went for a walk yesterday.   My first walk since I broke my 5th Metatarsal in my left foot on July 1 2012.  In November, after 6 months of the pain and agony of de-feet, my doctor labeled m a “slow healer”   He also said that I was 1 month away from being labeled a “no-healer”.  That would have been a real self-esteem booster to add no-healer to my already designation of Physical Therapy drop-out. [See blog posting:  PT 101 ] Every time my doctor asked me if I was doing my PT exercises I would blatantly lie. I said something like, “Absolutely, 3 times a day, 7 days a week.”  Meanwhile I had no idea where I even put the elastic straps I was supposed to be using to do the strengthening exercises. So today was the day I decided to take my now mostly healed left metatarsal for a test drive.  Well, actually a test walk.  I didn’t want to be just concentrating the entire time on my foot so I let my senses take a walk as well.  When I say senses I actually mean my five senses, not common sense.  I have come to the conclusion (and so has everyone else that knows me) that I have very little common sense.  In high school and college I was book smart.  However, I did not have one full chapter on common sense.  In fact in my Book of Life, “common sense” isn’t even listed in the index.  [BTW, all librarian puns are intended]  Today was a beautiful morning for a walk.  Believe it or not the weather was fully cooperating in that there was both sunshine and no winds.  This is a very rare combination in North Dakota.  So I   put on my screechers that my sister, Mary, gave to me because she knows that I do no other exercise except tale walks once in a while.  My mom and my three sisters are exercise fanatics.  They all have strict daily routines that include swimming pools, treadmills, steppers, climbers, aerobics, and running.  Wait, did I write “screechers?”  That must be a Freudian slip.  I subconsciously and consciously associate any exercise with screaming.  I believe the right name of my walking shoes is Skechers.  Anyway, I put on my Skechers, laced the left foot up extra tight for added support and took me, my fragile foot and my five senses for a walk.   Here is how my senses faired:

SIGHT:  Mostly I saw flowers.  I love flowers and my eyes are automatically drawn to their beauty. Each one with their unique shape and colors are always a beautiful wonder to me.  Living in North Dakota we don’t have as many varieties of flowers that warmer climates have.  But the good people of North Dakota take pride in their yards.  They cherish the three or maybe 4 months the yards are alive.  Most yards look like one of the occupants that live there took a class in ornamental horticulture.  The lawns are manicured, the blossoming bushes are aflame with different colors, and the flower beds are decorated with adorable colorfully dressed bunnies and cute metal fishing frog sculptures.  Thankfully, there are no Gnomes.   My yard on the other hand looks like a labor of moles are in charge of what is underneath the ground and whatever is above the ground is a herd of rabbits’ main food supply.  My yard is definitely something not something to see.

HEAR:  As I walk I hear sounds of children laughing and playing outside.  Their lighthearted and carefree laughter takes me back to those childhood years when life was simpler and without so many concerns.  A light breeze carries the sounds of this pleasant laughter to my ears and suddenly my own heart feels a little lighter.  The other most distinctive sound is the sound of birds.  All the birds (all four species that take up residence in North Dakota) were chirping and chattering away loudly.  For some reason they all seemed to be chirping at the same time.  Which means, if they are all chattering at once, are any of the other birds listening to each other?  Sounds a lot like human beings to me…. a lot of chattering and no listening.  But at least with birds their chirping is mostly pleasant to the ears and also a sound that lightens my heart.  There is one exception to the pleasantry of birdcalls.  I don’t like the hooting sound of an owl.  My grandpa said an owl hooting is a sign that someone is going to die.  I remember one time hearing an owl hoot in the tree in my backyard.  I was petrified that someone close to me was going to die.  As it turned out the tree died.  So I am not quite as superstitious about owls.  But their hooting is ominous sounding.

SMELL: My walk took me past the baseball diamond.  I know I smelled hot dogs.  It could have been my imagination since it was only 9:00 in the morning.  It is just that when I smell hotdogs, I smell the whole thing.  I smell ketchup, mustard, pickle relish and the bun.  Me and hotdogs don’t really get along.  Once a year in the summer I will get a craving for a hotdog.  It has to be grilled until it splits open and preferable some cheese melted in the split.  LOTS of ketchup and a bit of pickle relish.  Three bites later the craving is satisfied.  I remember I don’t like hotdogs and my stomach hurts the rest of the day.

TOUCH: All in all it felt wonderful to go for a walk.  My left foot was doing well and I was now on the home stretch. On my way back home there were a few raindrops.  It wasn’t at all threatening.  A few drops dripped here and there from the sky.  I did not open my mouth and taste a raindrop.  There are far too many toxins in the air and too much dust in the air this year. The intermittent drops reminded me of the Easter Mass when the priest walks around sprinkling the congregation with the newly blessed Holy Water.  I was thinking I should make the sign of the cross.  Good thing I didn’t because just as I was thinking of doing it a lady I knew drove by and waved at me.  This particular lady is somewhat of a gossip.  If she would have seen me making the sign of the cross while walking would not have been good. I can’t even imagine what would be said about me by the time the 1:00 coffee group meet at MacDonalds.   I did imagine words like “disturbed”, “strange”, “eccentric” and “her poor mother” being tossed around the coffee klatch table with every talking and no on listening. Still, I would like to think the raindrops were a few little blessings sent down to me by God.  God knows I could use some extra blessing.

TASTE:  I feel as if I covered taste when I talked about eating a hotdog.  The smell was so strong that I have decided to light the grill and give one a try for lunch.  After three bites, I will go to MacDonald’s for a Big Mac and a large order of French Fries.  While I am there I will try to sit near the 1:00 coffee group and see if they are talking about any strange lady walking in the rain this morning.  Back at home I will take four Tums, 2 Gas-X, spray some Febreeze and nap until supper time. Hopefully I won’t be dreaming about Gnomes or hotdogs.

gnome

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3 Responses to Does walking make sense?

  1. Deb says:

    You’re the best, my friend! What a fun way to start the LAST Monday of the school year! 🙂 (my entire exercise regime consists of walking to and from school, a whopping 2 blocks each way, so you’re my role model)

  2. Mary Mercado says:

    Beautifully done. How creative using your 5 senses. I love it!

    • mickeyrenner says:

      Hey Sis, this was one of those Daily Prompts that I actually could relate to and write about. My thought is that the prompts won’t inspire me that often, but yet today there was another I could write about. Have a great weekend sis. I love you

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