One mile

One mile isn’t really that far.  I’ve walked many miles in my life in places like Seattle, DC, Paris and Prague.  So what’s the big deal about walking a mile? I tried to walk a mile today in my neighborhood.  It’s not as easy as it sounds.

I tried walking yesterday at the “Goose Park“, as I shall call it from now on, with great success.  Up and down little hills, I walked the lanes back and forth zig-zagging along the paths.  I was breaking out into a sweat after 15 minutes, after 30 I couldn’t take a step further. I was a little sore today but my psychiatrist strongly urged me to keep walking since I need to build up my stamina before I go back to work. So I took a walk today too.  If you’ve been reading along these past few weeks, you know that depression has been kicking my ass – hard.  I haven’t been doing anything, much less walking, and just getting up the energy to go for a walk with my husband when he takes the dog has been an enormous effort.  I always want to stop and rest, if I can’t find an excuse not to go in the first place.  After two days of intentionally walking – I’m exhausted.  It’s not the neuropathy this time; I’m just that out of shape.  No wonder I am putting on so much weight! 😦

My neighborhood is somewhat hilly so that 1 mile really counts for something.  But when I got home and asked my husband how far that trip is and he said a mile, I about fell over.  It felt like two!  In fact, I was sure it must have been two – how could one mile be so damn difficult?  The human body is a strange thing – it takes so much work to make it good and so little to make it fail.  Even with as poorly as my arm was before the surgery, just 10 days in a splint and I lost all range of motion.  It took 4 weeks to get just the range of motion back.  I’m still working on strength.

It wasn’t so long ago that I could walk a mile and a half in 30min without heavy breathing.  Between not working, not exercising, and depression, all I can walk is a mile.  Oh well, one mile is better than no miles.  It’s a start.


© Manic Monday (manicmonday123). Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Manic Monday (manicmonday123) with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Why I hate Canadian Geese

They are noisy, obnoxious, territorial, vicious creatures. Don’t walk too close to them or they will attack – especially during mating season. We used to live in an apartment complex that was quiet and charming with a pond in the back. But every spring from about February to May, the geese were there honking up a storm. Day and night. Even with heat or AC on, it still would keep me up some nights. Mating season, I know, but noisy, noisy, noisy!!! I remember one time I took a walk around the campus that I was working at and accidentally walked too close to a nest. The male goose started honking and snapping, chasing me away. I’ve been wary of them ever since.

Today, at my husband’s urging, I went for a walk. Instead of walking around the neighborhood, I went to a nearby park that I like. It is a lovely place with a pond, benches, and trees. Even a weeping willow whose leaves reach for the water, nearly kissing the surface. The only down side is the geese. There are ducks too, but they keep to themselves and are relatively benign anyway. But these geese… people feed the geese. Often. So the geese are not afraid of humans, instead they are bold creatures and they figure that if you are human and in their territory then you are there to feed them. And if you aren’t there to feed them then get lost. Mind you, I’ve gotten some incredible pictures of these geese, close-ups because they’ll walk right up to you, but I’ve also stood on top of a picnic table to get away from them. I hate geese, almost as much as I hate bugs.

Too close for comfort

Not shy! They will come closer and probably eat out of your hand if you let them. I've never tried it.

I hate spiders too. I’m afraid that every spider I see is a brown recluse (common in this part of the country) that will bite me and kill me painfully. Or kill my cats. When Luna passed away, I had a feeling that she had eaten a brown recluse.  She was playing with something, and shortly thereafter she began convulsions and eventually her liver gave out.  The poor thing died in agony. But that’s a different story. I was talking about why I hate geese and why I hate spiders and other creepy-crawlies. They are icky, nasty things.  I know spiders are a necessary part of the ecosystem but that doesn’t mean I have to like it.

But geese? Surely they aren’t a necessary part of the ecosystem? They are the perfect example of a fluffy dinosaur, evolved from large flying creatures in a savage land of eat or be eaten. They eat grass and handouts and poop everywhere. Please don’t feed the geese. At least make them work for their food. Otherwise the world might be taken over by Canadian Geese.

Overrun!



© Manic Monday (manicmonday123). Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Manic Monday (manicmonday123) with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.