I didn’t mean to walk today. Wow. That sounded weird. Weird and incredibly. What I meant to say was I wasn’t supposed to put in a training walk for Project Bread today. I have a partner for this endeavor and I would prefer to put in the walks with her. But, here’s the deal. I have had a sore throat to the point of pain for almost a week. Someone with a lot of medical credentials at the end of her name asked me if I thought not being able to swallow for a week was normal. Okay, she had a point. I had been living on a “hot” diet for a week – anything cold killed my throat. I wanted nothing more than another week in bed.
Instead I found myself on the treadmill. Trying to read and walk at the same time. I wanted to walk two miles just to say I did. Laundry spinning behind me. Snow falling outside. Kisa on his way home. Me, trying to read The Biggest Elvis, book bouncing up and down. Just to say I did. I ended up walking to a program called “Rolling Hills.” Alternating speed, alternating incline. It was funny, trying to balance the book while all this was going on. In the end it was 35 minutes, 1.6 miles…and no sore throat. Whle I didn’t make two miles I’m psyched. I think I could get used to this walking thing.
Project Hunger Walk One – No Laughing Matter.
Gone are the days I can hitch a ride without feeling selfstupid. I hate inconveniencing anyone. I hate relying on anyone. Carpooling with kisa is completely different. We both end up in the same place each night. When it’s all said and done he’s always going my way anyway.
This night was different. She needed me to get her to the gym and I needed her to drive me there. Worked out perfectly that we could work out together. Truth be told, I’m more out of practice than out of shape when it comes to being in a gym. Signing in, finding an empty locker, scanning the cardio equipment for something not in use and a little less than out of order and never mind finding two together.
She got the treadmill in front of me and I ignored the people to the right and left. Or tried to. What is it about treadmills so close together? Like bald tires on black ice my eyes kept sliding over to the chick chugging along beside me. She wasn’t running…yet. But, she was cruising. To avoid further jealousies I busied myself with starting my workout. At first glance I couldn’t figure out my machine. It’s like reading a book in French for hours and then trying to read German. Everything looks nothing short of hieroglyphics. My treadmill at home is completely different than the machine I was now trying to decipher. Sensing complete ridiculousness I pressed “quick on” and started moving.
Speaking of silly, it felt completely stupid not to run. It took everything I had not to crank up the speed to at least a casual jog, an offhand trot. Walking seemed…well…slow. So slow! Out of boredom I pretended I was walking in my grandparents’ day. Ten miles. In the snow. Uphill. Both ways. Then, slowly, I started to feel shinsplints. My ankles started to ache. I wasn’t making fun of not running anymore. This was actually going to take some work. Suddenly this walking thing was no laughing matter.
So, seriously: 2.2 miles/35 minutes. So it begins.