Walking

I Go Out Walking

A Walking Update:

I have been walking daily, with a few exceptions. Last night I didn’t get home until 11. Pure Luck gave me a break when I promised to walk twice today instead. This morning I have a cancellation in my schedule, and we are going out with
the dogs. It’s absolutely beautiful outside, and I am eager to get
started!

I feel better, overall. I have more energy when we are walking, although the particular tree pollens active at the moment are not a kind fit for my various breathing sensitivities.  Although it is frustrating for an 11 foot tall man who regularly wears Seven League Boots to walk with a slowpoke, he has been supportive. We both know that over-enthusiastic efforts in the past have resulted in injuries, so we’re trying to be patient.

Really, I am less patient than he is, on some levels.

The other night, as we neared our street again, a guy yelled out his car window at me. I found that upset my nerves, since it was not exactly a complimentary "whoop." I remember now why I avoided exercising in public at some points in my life. I felt horribly vulnerable as I finished the walk home. I’m not sure why people need to lash out at strangers. Pure Luck urged me not to pay attention to a passing jerk, but I’m afraid I internalized it and felt pretty miserable the rest of the evening.

Still, we’re going out this morning. I hope it’s too early in the day for vocal nincompoops to be out and shouting.

18 thoughts on “I Go Out Walking”

  1. Dear Songbird,
    Remember the childhood response to taunting? “I’m rubber, you’re glue. It bounces off me and sticks to you.” I know, not very spiritual, but it gets the point across to mean-spirited nasties. As we say around here, “Don’t let the idiots get you down.”

  2. Grrr! What makes men think they can publicly evaluate women’s bodies? Did that guy feel all big and powerful. I didn’t relish it when the approving catcalls turned to “Hey, old lady,” but I didn’t like the catcalls either. Not. one. bit. I vote for flipping him off!

  3. I’m not recommending this–as it could be antagonizing. But I have a friend who just takes pictures of people when they do jerky stuff like that. She always has her camera on her anyway. I’m afraid someone’s going to beat her up for it someday, but I do think how satisfying it would be to just photograph people behaving badly.

  4. In my experience, men with big mouths are compensating for undersize penises … 😉 The bigger the mouth … well, you know.
    When you flip him off, be sure and use your pinky finger instead of the usual “bird” finger –we reserve that for those who don’t deserve the very best.

  5. Ask yourself: Do you really value the judgement calls of some immature jerks wasting gas (probably passing it, too) on a beautiful day when their lazy butts could be walking? I don’t.
    I know I get some odd looks from people when I use my little fold-up cart and walk the six blocks to the grocery store every week or so. Frankly, I don’t care what they think since I think able-bodied people who drive a few blocks when they could walk are lazy, polluting, gas-wasters. (The irony is now that gas prices are so high, people are starting to ask where to get their own carts!)

  6. Good grief. I’m sorry that you felt bad about the comment. I am SO proud of you for honoring your commitment to yourself, and proud of Pure Luck too, for valuing that commitment enough to dial it back.

  7. It’s funny, in my mind I know and knew very clearly how silly it was to be hurt. But our feelings don’t always care to color-coordinate with our thoughts.

  8. Just keep walking–walk off the insult, walk off the way it hit you. Your entry about “check engine” seemed to me to be a really important moment of introspection. The absolutely amazing thing about our bodies is that they are SO responsive to our smallest efforts to treat them more kindly and be more responsive to them. Incidents like you went through last night are wonderful excuses in my life to let myself off the hook on this kind of discipline. I am learning to just keep walking.

  9. The catcalls from men passing in cars happen no matter how you’re shaped. When it happens, I pretend I don’t hear ’em. I’m pretty sure their penises shrink just a little bit more when they don’t get a response.

  10. That does suck. And I hate that vulnerable feeling. I get it whenever someone yells, “Dyke!” And then I wonder, “How the hell do they know?” Like, is it tattooed on my forehead or something?

  11. Apparently we were on the same wavelength with the post titles today.
    I’ve managed to avoid being shouted at, thank goodness. What a small little meanie.

  12. Ouch…hugs because that is miserable – I always internalise stuff like that too – and then more hugs because your walking is continuing so well. I’m back to square one at the moment…maybe later today…when I get back from driving to Cardiff for yet more of HG’s belongings!

  13. I got a lot of that years back. I hated it. Don’t get it now, don’t know why. Glad you continue to walk every day. Me too. Finally.

  14. Sorry about the jerk, but good for you for the consistent walking.
    I just finished taking care of friends’ dogs for two and a half weeks, and I walked them three times a day–good long walks. I planned to continue walking when they left, but being sick since then has put a cramp in those plans. I’ll think of you as inspiration to get back to it when this bronchitis is gone.

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