It’s almost been a month and a half since I last walked Blue–and I can feel it. I am a walker. I walk on treadmills, streets, sidewalks, and beaches. And I walk to grocery stores, shopping centers, banks, and post offices, so long as time, distance, logistics and weather permit. Walking, I am able to feel the sun on my face and the wind in my hair. And I’m able to see scenes I’d likely otherwise miss.
Since we moved into our new home, [S] and I have been waking and walking. It’s been beneficial, allowing me to find my way around our neighborhood and take in the sights. But it’s been a struggle physically. It’s hot and humid, yes. But the real issue is that when Blue left, I stopped walking. Pre-[S], I easily could walk a 10 to 12 minute mile. Now, well, er, ugh. I could blame my slow time on pushing a stroller or the gently sloping sidewalks. But excuses will do me no good. The good news is that my walking partner is a constant reminder of one reason why I need to get back on track.