I awoke this morning, and as I climbed out of bed, I realized my feet hurt. My legs hurt. My body felt like I had been run over by a semi.
And then I remembered yesterday's walk at rehab. My therapeutic walk. This is how it started:
Craig opened the rehab door and called Truett's name. "Good-bye," I said and gave Truett a quick peck on the cheek. Then I exited out the automatic sliding doors. . . irritating doors that open with the whisper of a breath if you are close enough.
I looked to the wetland area next to rehab and thought about grabbing my camera from the back seat of the car and scanning the wetlands for hawks or creatures. But then I thought, "No. Use this time for a therapeutic walk. . . and then reward yourself with a mocha from Starbucks."
So I headed to the city block, as I call it, and decided to walk. It would be good for my mental and physical health I rationalized. In the meantime, I saw a man walking on the path towards me, so I decided to walk against the grain. . . I decided to walk in the opposite direction.
Slap! Slap! Slap!
Pound! Pound! Pound!
My feet beat a path around the city block.
But then I realized the man was approaching me on his walk around the city block. "What do I do? Do I keep my head down? Do I say 'hello'? Darn. I should have gone his direction and then I wouldn't have any anxiety.
Lap one complete. I didn't look up at the man.
Lap two. He smiled and I smiled.
Lap three. He said, "It can't get any better than this."
"Yeah," I answered and thought, "Oh, yes it can. I can be drinking a mocha about now."
I know this sounds ridiculous, but I did not want this stranger to think I was a wimp . . . a pretender. . . so I sped up my pace to match his. I estimated where we would next meet. Either by the cordoned-off live oak tree, or by the park bench, maybe even by the trash cans across from Starbucks.
I don't know. Crazy things cross your mind when you are exercising. I mean really exercising. I mean really pounding the pavement to keep up with some stranger pounding the pavement in the opposite direction in a city block.
I felt this man was pushing me. "I can't quit," I thought. "He will know I am an imposter. He will know I'm a novice. He will just know who I am."
So I kept on clipping. (I like that word. Truett said how was your stroll and I almost slapped him).
In the end, my time was up. I got no Starbucks Mocha. I collapsed in a chair in front of those stupid doors at rehab and I exhaled.
Ahhhh! That felt good.
"Was that GOD walking opposite me? " I wondered.
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