Friday, June 1, 2012


Back last year when M&M & I were tiptoeing into the waters of getting to know each other again after 40-odd years, we would go walking on the beach a the morning...the EARLY morning, before the crowds & heat. Sounds romantic, eh? Au contraire. Let me paint a picture... The sun was barely up when he would pick me up for the morning walk. I have on attire that is not the most flattering, to say the least, as I had spent the last few years getting squishy around the edges. Oh okay, in the middle too, so I welcomed the exercise, asked for the exercise. Trouble is, his legs are stronger than mine, and he likes to go fast. So not only am I huffing & puffing to keep up, I am sweating like something unpleasant in the meantime. I can't help it that I have an overly enthusiastic thermoregulatory system. Always have. It's a wonder he didn't keep going & leave me behind, red-faced & dripping. But, no, he is a gentleman and, sooner or later, would realize I wasn't beside him anymore and either wait patiently for me to catch up or circle back.

That was on the weekends. During the week, after he got off of work, we would go to Oak Grove Lake Park and walk. Beautiful place. I highly recommend it. Even so, as we finished our walks, I was again hot & huffing & sweaty and he is dry & breathing easy. REALLY??? Exactly how is this fair? Should be the other way round, I'm thinkin'. Later, when he got his bicycle, we would go bike riding. And guess what? He likes to ride fast too. But, again, he restrains himself from channeling Lance Armstrong & shooting ahead, leaving me to eat his dust. I hold him back, I know I do, yet he doesn't complain.

Don't get me wrong. This was not all his idea. I asked him to push me a little, to get me out of my comfort zone, to make it just a bit uncomfortable. I NEEDED to get back in shape. Oh oh, and when we went to New Hampshire for a week in October, he somehow convinced me that what I really wanted to do was climb Mt. Washington. What was I thinkin'? Gave it my best try, really I did, but I didn't make it. He was only grumpy for a couple hours afterward. He really wanted to make it all the way to the top. There was only the tiniest grumble as he said he still loved me anyway.

I didn't take this picture of the trail up the mountain. I was too busy trying to breathe & stay on my feet. 
Oh, and this is the easy part of the trail.

Then after we got back home, my hip started giving me fits. It felt like a hot knife stabbing me, so I did what any good therapist would do. Nothing. The doctor was only going to tell my I had torn some cartilage, and the only successful treatment so far is surgery. No thanks. So all winter, we didn't do much, with 2 results:
   1) The hip is much better now, with only occasional shenanigans and a rare hot-poker-stab.
   2) We both got squidgy.

The time is upon us to fix that. Walking & riding. Me getting red-faced & sweaty, him staying dry & unsmelly. Last weekend we rode in Seashore State Park (that's the name I grew up with and that's the name I'll always call it). The rest of the city is flat as a pancake, but there? Damn hills. My knees were barking at me the next day something fierce. Tomorrow we go to the Jamestown Island Loop Drive via the sumptious Colonial Parkway with our bikes. Gorgeous ride. Supposed to be gorgeous weather. And so it begins again....


Anonymous said...

I'm laughing my ass off - with you, not at you. Or I wish that was the case. If LMAO worked, I'd be as svelte as Jack Sprat... I hope you are taking your camera. Use the photography stops to get your breath back. RAD

Kathy said...

Hahaha! Oh, trust me Rog, I can invent a LOT of Kodak moments, and, thanks to you, my camera is always with me. I relish the look of patient resignation (aka dismay) on his face.