Exactly how many body parts can one person have that need physical therapy?
I'm really curious. This year I have had physical therapy on both knees, my neck, my shoulder, and now we are working on my hip bursar and IT Band, plus my thighs. I've never even heard of the IT Band. When my physical therapist said it was an IT issue, my first thought it was something with computers ... Information Technology. Then I thought she was talking about some musical group. However, I knew we were talking about my body and none of those things made sense, but those were my first thoughts.
Then came an explanation of the IT issue. Iliotibial Band Syndrome (ITBS) is one of the most common overuse injuries among runners/walkers. It occurs when the iliotibial band, the ligament that runs down the outside of the thigh from the hip to the shin, is tight or inflamed. The IT band attaches to the knee and helps stabilize and move the joint. When the IT band isn’t working properly, movement of the knee (and, therefore, running/walking) becomes painful. IT band pain can be severe enough to completely sideline a runner/walker for weeks, or even longer.
That's just great. I'm trying to prepare for a six mile walk, and that preparation is causing some of the issues. I think I sort of tuned out as this was being explained. She's a great physical therapist and I appreciate her work, but I just tuned out ... until she started using a roller on my very sore right thigh. I didn't see it coming, and about jumped off that mat. She now had my undivided attention. Even with my renewed focus, it was obvious PT was not where I wanted to be.
The decision was made to return next week to begin more rehab, and to stop walking until the new year. I'm happy to know what is wrong, that it's fixable without surgery, and "resting" the lower portion of my body will give the inflammation time to subside. But, that means I have lost a full month of training, and don't know if I have to start from the beginning, or pick up where I was a few weeks ago. Wearing my Fitbit watch almost seems useless right now because I'm using it only as a watch, and that's not why I have it attached to my body.
There's no time to dwell on this because it does no good. I'm also not in the mood for trying to be entertaining in the post. The upper portion of my body is pissed that I'm not out pounding the pavement, while the lower portion is silently screaming in great delight with the postponement of another week off before starting again to train.
It's time for the IT Band to tune its instruments, because I BELIEVE this will pass and I'll be stronger very soon.
So, it’s one foot in front of the other to the finish line!
Wednesday, December 21, 2016
Saturday, December 17, 2016
Seen With Accessories
One night week before last I was on my way to the grocery store. Driving down the street on which I live - and walk - I was almost on top of a fellow walker before I spotted her. She was wearing all dark clothes, black or navy, with white sneakers. Fortunately for both of us, her shoes had a sliver of reflective material around the back which caught my headlights and my attention. I realized that could have easily been me walking.
If I had hit her, she would have been hurt, but there would have been only a slight bump and very little damage to my car. But if someone hits me, we're talking about wiping out the entire front end of the car; plus my two new knees. I decided I can't control how others make themselves visible while walking, but sure as I pay car insurance premiums, I can do everything possible to make myself visible. Needless to say, I will do everything possible to protect my knees, and to avoid needing to have hip replacement surgery.
I want to be seen, but not stick out like a Christmas display walking in the neighborhood. I went online to see what was available. As I have found, the running/walking industry is huge. There are tons of products, most with equally large price tags. I found ankle bracelets with flashing red lights. There are head lamps with white lights facing forward and red lights pointing backward. There are even vests with flashing lights. Remember, my goal was to be seen, but walking down residential streets looking like a Mardi Gras float with flashing lights was not my intention.
And then there it was ... just what would make me seen by drivers. Not only would I be seen, I would be fulfilling a childhood dream. I've never before admitted this. When I was about 10-years-old I wanted to be a School Crossing Guard. Actually, I didn't really want to be a Crossing Guard; but, instead wanted the spiffy sash worn by the Crossing Guards and the shiny pin attached to the spiffy sash. I was all for letting the guys in my neighborhood wave their flags to stop traffic and escort me across the street. I just wanted that damn sash and pin. That sash and pin would have been great accessories to any outfit I owned. Please note ... I spent 13-years in school in New Orleans and 10 of those years were wearing Catholic School uniforms. Give a girl a break, accessories to go with real clothes would have been welcomed.
Let's reel-in this story back to wanting to be seen when I walk. On Amazon I found an apparatus that looked like the crossing guard sash. And it is better because it has lots of reflective strips to make sure I am seen. The crossing guard sash went around the waist and over one shoulder. This reflective device goes around the waist and over both shoulders. Adding to the spiffiness is that there are two reflective straps for my legs. Talk about accessories for an outfit. Take that, Ms Dobson, for telling me only the boys could wear those sashes and shiny pins! It took me 52-years, but I got my sash, sans the pin. Something tells me Ms Dobson isn't rolling over in her grave, and in Heaven she probably has no memory of Beth Taylor.
So, it’s one foot in front of the other to the finish line!
If I had hit her, she would have been hurt, but there would have been only a slight bump and very little damage to my car. But if someone hits me, we're talking about wiping out the entire front end of the car; plus my two new knees. I decided I can't control how others make themselves visible while walking, but sure as I pay car insurance premiums, I can do everything possible to make myself visible. Needless to say, I will do everything possible to protect my knees, and to avoid needing to have hip replacement surgery.
I want to be seen, but not stick out like a Christmas display walking in the neighborhood. I went online to see what was available. As I have found, the running/walking industry is huge. There are tons of products, most with equally large price tags. I found ankle bracelets with flashing red lights. There are head lamps with white lights facing forward and red lights pointing backward. There are even vests with flashing lights. Remember, my goal was to be seen, but walking down residential streets looking like a Mardi Gras float with flashing lights was not my intention.
And then there it was ... just what would make me seen by drivers. Not only would I be seen, I would be fulfilling a childhood dream. I've never before admitted this. When I was about 10-years-old I wanted to be a School Crossing Guard. Actually, I didn't really want to be a Crossing Guard; but, instead wanted the spiffy sash worn by the Crossing Guards and the shiny pin attached to the spiffy sash. I was all for letting the guys in my neighborhood wave their flags to stop traffic and escort me across the street. I just wanted that damn sash and pin. That sash and pin would have been great accessories to any outfit I owned. Please note ... I spent 13-years in school in New Orleans and 10 of those years were wearing Catholic School uniforms. Give a girl a break, accessories to go with real clothes would have been welcomed.
Let's reel-in this story back to wanting to be seen when I walk. On Amazon I found an apparatus that looked like the crossing guard sash. And it is better because it has lots of reflective strips to make sure I am seen. The crossing guard sash went around the waist and over one shoulder. This reflective device goes around the waist and over both shoulders. Adding to the spiffiness is that there are two reflective straps for my legs. Talk about accessories for an outfit. Take that, Ms Dobson, for telling me only the boys could wear those sashes and shiny pins! It took me 52-years, but I got my sash, sans the pin. Something tells me Ms Dobson isn't rolling over in her grave, and in Heaven she probably has no memory of Beth Taylor.
So, it’s one foot in front of the other to the finish line!
Friday, December 16, 2016
The Many Uses of Trekking Poles
I don't know about other persons (according to the Associated Press Style book the word "persons" is used instead of the word "people" ... thanks to my parents paying for my journalism education and my having to learn the AP book) As I was saying, I don't know about other persons, but the past 62-years in which I have walked this earth are segmented into various "lives." There was the student, the sportscaster, newscaster, PR pro, and the adventurism me. The adventurism me did things like whitewater rafting, primitive camping, hiking up mountains, and so on.
During my adventurist time I owned a matching set of hiking sticks that I used to keep me on my feet. In light of my recent "tumble" while birding, I decided I needed another set. There I was in Dick's Sporting Goods ready to splurge on a set of sticks ... because protecting my shiny new $200,000 knees is a chief priority. I had a cute young man - young, as in complete with acne - tell me those sticks are now called "Trekking Poles." I was talking with this young man because I was about to make, yet another purchase, for the sport of walking. Note I called this the "sport of walking." I learned how to walk more than 60-years ago, but - for me - it became a "sport" when it started costing me a ton of money. Well, after listening to this nice young man, I bought the Trekking Poles.
If I had had the sticks earlier this month I might - emphasis on might - have stayed on my feet while birding with the Audubon group. Even if the sticks hadn't prevented the fall, they might - again, might - have made it easier to get up than to rely on two strong people helping me back on my feet.
The sales guy was telling me the versatility of the sticks, such as being able to use them while cross-country skiing or downhill skiing. This guy had no way of knowing my misadventures when having large planks attached to my feet, either in snow or on water. Those adventures usually ended with ambulance rides, ER visits without Dr McDreamy or Dr McSteamy, casts, and crutches. He even went as far as to demonstrate how one might have a "sword fight" with two sticks and a friend. There were all sorts of things I could have said, but decided the vast age difference between us was best described as wisdom ... as in don't bother to explain to him that I'm 62-years-old and trying very hard to stay upright while walking.
Here I am going to yet another "life," practicing restraint in what I say, and caution so as not to risk an injury. Friends all over the world are now wondering who is this person writing this post, because it's absolutely not the person who did adventure sports until realizing the "sports" were winning instead of me, not the one to button my lip, and not the person who would have had the sword fight right there in the back end of the store. Change is constant, and the only thing of which I can be certain. But if you see me walking down the street with my new trekking poles and wildly swinging one, you can either 1) shake your head and think Beth is revisiting some filed away memories of her youth, or 2) grab the other pole and join in the sword fight where we'll both laugh until tears appear or we pee our pants.
So, it’s one foot in front of the other to the finish line!
During my adventurist time I owned a matching set of hiking sticks that I used to keep me on my feet. In light of my recent "tumble" while birding, I decided I needed another set. There I was in Dick's Sporting Goods ready to splurge on a set of sticks ... because protecting my shiny new $200,000 knees is a chief priority. I had a cute young man - young, as in complete with acne - tell me those sticks are now called "Trekking Poles." I was talking with this young man because I was about to make, yet another purchase, for the sport of walking. Note I called this the "sport of walking." I learned how to walk more than 60-years ago, but - for me - it became a "sport" when it started costing me a ton of money. Well, after listening to this nice young man, I bought the Trekking Poles.
If I had had the sticks earlier this month I might - emphasis on might - have stayed on my feet while birding with the Audubon group. Even if the sticks hadn't prevented the fall, they might - again, might - have made it easier to get up than to rely on two strong people helping me back on my feet.
The sales guy was telling me the versatility of the sticks, such as being able to use them while cross-country skiing or downhill skiing. This guy had no way of knowing my misadventures when having large planks attached to my feet, either in snow or on water. Those adventures usually ended with ambulance rides, ER visits without Dr McDreamy or Dr McSteamy, casts, and crutches. He even went as far as to demonstrate how one might have a "sword fight" with two sticks and a friend. There were all sorts of things I could have said, but decided the vast age difference between us was best described as wisdom ... as in don't bother to explain to him that I'm 62-years-old and trying very hard to stay upright while walking.
Here I am going to yet another "life," practicing restraint in what I say, and caution so as not to risk an injury. Friends all over the world are now wondering who is this person writing this post, because it's absolutely not the person who did adventure sports until realizing the "sports" were winning instead of me, not the one to button my lip, and not the person who would have had the sword fight right there in the back end of the store. Change is constant, and the only thing of which I can be certain. But if you see me walking down the street with my new trekking poles and wildly swinging one, you can either 1) shake your head and think Beth is revisiting some filed away memories of her youth, or 2) grab the other pole and join in the sword fight where we'll both laugh until tears appear or we pee our pants.
So, it’s one foot in front of the other to the finish line!
Wednesday, December 14, 2016
Needing To Jumpstart My Walking Routine
It's a mere 18-days until the start of the new year, and my walking shoes are still collecting dust. I'm truly beginning to wonder if I'll ever again restart my training for the 2017 Crescent City Classic 10K.
Don't get me wrong, I'm not a fan of pounding the pavement; but I'm even less a fan of giving up the accomplishment of a goal. The last time I laced up my sneakers was the first - and only day of training - I logged two miles. I was, needless to say, very proud of that milestone trek. However, I'll be amazed if I can pull off that mileage again without having to seriously pamper this body. I don't want to look at this as a setback, but I don't know what other term to use. Not only have I been unable to walk, I've spent the better part of the previous 12-days in bed!
I fell while birding with the Orleans Audubon group on December 3rd. Add the jarring effect of that fall with the toxic allergic reaction of bringing the dust-covered Christmas decorations down from the attic, plus the raging fireball of an unwelcome Fibromyalgia flare-up to get a picture of what past 11-days have looked like/felt like for me. As soon as I get the first spark of energy, I'll once again try to recapture my competitive spirit. However, for now, my energy level shifts between "low gear" and "no gear."
So, it’s one foot in front of the other to the finish line!
Don't get me wrong, I'm not a fan of pounding the pavement; but I'm even less a fan of giving up the accomplishment of a goal. The last time I laced up my sneakers was the first - and only day of training - I logged two miles. I was, needless to say, very proud of that milestone trek. However, I'll be amazed if I can pull off that mileage again without having to seriously pamper this body. I don't want to look at this as a setback, but I don't know what other term to use. Not only have I been unable to walk, I've spent the better part of the previous 12-days in bed!
I fell while birding with the Orleans Audubon group on December 3rd. Add the jarring effect of that fall with the toxic allergic reaction of bringing the dust-covered Christmas decorations down from the attic, plus the raging fireball of an unwelcome Fibromyalgia flare-up to get a picture of what past 11-days have looked like/felt like for me. As soon as I get the first spark of energy, I'll once again try to recapture my competitive spirit. However, for now, my energy level shifts between "low gear" and "no gear."
So, it’s one foot in front of the other to the finish line!
Tuesday, December 6, 2016
Shoe Inserts Versus Sock Liners
The fancy-pants shoes didn't live up to my expectations on the inaugural walk, but I'm not one to give up after a single issue.
Now it's time to get into problem-solving mode. Let's find the easiest, and most cost-effective way, to remedy the cushioning situation. Sounds simple, until I did a Google search of "cushioning shoe inserts." I expected to find a couple of entries for memory foam inserts. Instead, what I found were pages upon pages, upon pages, of sites selling inserts, sites with videos explaining inserts, sites with photos and illustrations, sites with experts explaining the foot, and sites with all sorts of testimonials. This was about to be no small feat ... no pun intended.
I needed a new game plan. I decided to go to a single store, try on as many types of inserts as necessary inside my fancy new shoes, and finally buy the one that felt best - while providing some stability - and wouldn't break the bank.
The next decision was to select the type of store; whether to step inside a shoe store, or a sporting goods store. It was finally time for brain to meet bank account. With that said, it became a relatively easy choice to steer the car in the direction of the nearest sporting goods store. Considering that a few days earlier the shoe store had made a hard pitch to have me spend $99 for a pair of half shoe orthotics, sporting goods store was the choice. Dick's was the winner by ... I can't insert any pun or inference here. Dick's .. it's just Dick's ... that's the long and the short of it.
I walked into the store with my brand new shoes in hand. Sixty minutes later - or there about - I walked out with two pair of shoe inserts, three pairs of socks, and one set of pink fuzzy earmuffs through which I can place my earbuds. I suppose I should explain the contents of my bag. One pair of inserts is for the new walking shoes, as is one pair of socks. The pink fuzzy earmuffs are for walking in cold weather. There are several slits in the ear pieces so that I can insert my headphones. That's important because my mother calls every 30-minutes to make sure someone hasn't slashed my throat and dumped my lifeless body into the clean suburban gutter.
The remaining inserts and socks are for my new hiking boots. I met up with the Orleans Audubon group to go hiking/birding today on the Northshore of Lake Pontchatrain. With my formerly ragged knees, it had been quite some time between my hiking excursions. During that time I seem to have forgotten how heavy hiking boots are, and - like my new walking shoes - have come supplied with a flimsy "sock liner." Lordy, I thought my feet hurt from my two mile walk yesterday wearing the fancy new shoes. But there is no comparison to the pain elicited by my foot resting on this paper-thin sock liner. And since the sock liner is anexoric-thin, I now have purchased obesity-thick socks to cushion the load.
As with the walking, my new knees performed beautifully on my two mile hike. However, the jury is still out on the rest of my body. Wearing my new hiking boots, I took a "tumble" in a wide-open field. My clumsy maneuver significantly jarred my body which, I feel certain, will leave it "all stove up" tomorrow. And in case you are wondering, "all stove up" is South Mississippi language for stiff and sore. I will neither begin to explain the various ways in which one can become "all stove up," nor describe the breath-taking elixirs used to treat the condition. It's just safe to say I won't be walking tomorrow.
So, it’s one foot in front of the other to the finish line!
Now it's time to get into problem-solving mode. Let's find the easiest, and most cost-effective way, to remedy the cushioning situation. Sounds simple, until I did a Google search of "cushioning shoe inserts." I expected to find a couple of entries for memory foam inserts. Instead, what I found were pages upon pages, upon pages, of sites selling inserts, sites with videos explaining inserts, sites with photos and illustrations, sites with experts explaining the foot, and sites with all sorts of testimonials. This was about to be no small feat ... no pun intended.
I needed a new game plan. I decided to go to a single store, try on as many types of inserts as necessary inside my fancy new shoes, and finally buy the one that felt best - while providing some stability - and wouldn't break the bank.
The next decision was to select the type of store; whether to step inside a shoe store, or a sporting goods store. It was finally time for brain to meet bank account. With that said, it became a relatively easy choice to steer the car in the direction of the nearest sporting goods store. Considering that a few days earlier the shoe store had made a hard pitch to have me spend $99 for a pair of half shoe orthotics, sporting goods store was the choice. Dick's was the winner by ... I can't insert any pun or inference here. Dick's .. it's just Dick's ... that's the long and the short of it.
I walked into the store with my brand new shoes in hand. Sixty minutes later - or there about - I walked out with two pair of shoe inserts, three pairs of socks, and one set of pink fuzzy earmuffs through which I can place my earbuds. I suppose I should explain the contents of my bag. One pair of inserts is for the new walking shoes, as is one pair of socks. The pink fuzzy earmuffs are for walking in cold weather. There are several slits in the ear pieces so that I can insert my headphones. That's important because my mother calls every 30-minutes to make sure someone hasn't slashed my throat and dumped my lifeless body into the clean suburban gutter.
The remaining inserts and socks are for my new hiking boots. I met up with the Orleans Audubon group to go hiking/birding today on the Northshore of Lake Pontchatrain. With my formerly ragged knees, it had been quite some time between my hiking excursions. During that time I seem to have forgotten how heavy hiking boots are, and - like my new walking shoes - have come supplied with a flimsy "sock liner." Lordy, I thought my feet hurt from my two mile walk yesterday wearing the fancy new shoes. But there is no comparison to the pain elicited by my foot resting on this paper-thin sock liner. And since the sock liner is anexoric-thin, I now have purchased obesity-thick socks to cushion the load.
As with the walking, my new knees performed beautifully on my two mile hike. However, the jury is still out on the rest of my body. Wearing my new hiking boots, I took a "tumble" in a wide-open field. My clumsy maneuver significantly jarred my body which, I feel certain, will leave it "all stove up" tomorrow. And in case you are wondering, "all stove up" is South Mississippi language for stiff and sore. I will neither begin to explain the various ways in which one can become "all stove up," nor describe the breath-taking elixirs used to treat the condition. It's just safe to say I won't be walking tomorrow.
So, it’s one foot in front of the other to the finish line!
Monday, December 5, 2016
Walking on Sunshine, With A Chance of Rain
The perfect pair of shoes isn't necessarily the perfect pair of shoes to cradle my precious little toes, and the various other parts of my feet. I've already learned that my foot grows by an inch every time it strikes the pavement, and it strikes it over and over during my walk.
My training routine calls for me to walk four days, then take two days off. I walked four this week, then took off yesterday; Thursday, December 1st. Technically, I'm supposed to take off today. However, there are a lot of reasons telling me to get dressed and take to the road. First of all, I feel great ... I'm not sore, the Fibromyalgia is behaving, I want to walk, the Fitbit challenge ends today, and the overwhelming reason is that the cute little UPS guy smiled when he delivered what is hyped to be my PERFECT PAIR OF SHOES!
Look out neighbors I'll be coming down the road wearing an "off blue" pair of Brooks GTS 16 running shoes with magenta and alabaster trim. Does that not just make you drool with excitement? In reality that shoe is blueish-green, with pink and white trim. However, stating the shoe is blueish-green with pink and white trim means you can only charge about $59. But you add those other descriptive words and the price jumps to $149.95. Then, call it a GTS 16 and everybody has visions of a jacked up, suped-up car every teenage boy wanted, and in which every teenage girl wanted to be seen. Here's where I burst the bubble ... GTS means "Go To Shoe." Hey, cute little UPS man, please take these back and bring me the $59 version. Alas, he grinned, said "no', and winked. He winked! I caved. I'll keep them, because - after all - these are "perfect shoes."
Did I mention that moving forward from today, I increase my walking by one mile on the first day that I walk each month? Today it's two perfect miles in my new perfect shoes. So with the press of a button on my Fitbit Blaze, I'm off and walking in my perfect shoes.
To quote the oldie but goodie song; "I'm walking on sunshine." The air has a bit of a chill, but not too much. The sun is peaking through the clouds just enough to make me feel healthy. I'm say "good morning" to the sanitation workers, the cop riding his bike through the neighborhood, and my mailman who wants to know why I wasted money on the UPS that guy I'm sure should be Mr December on the UPS calendar wearing nothing but fuzzy green earmuffs.
And then it happens ... I can feel that I stepped on a rock. Through the soles of these perfect shoes, I can feel a rock. That sunshine upon which I was walking, has become cloudy with a chance of rain. A few more steps, and a lot more rocks, with some feeling like giant boulders.
What has happen to these "off blue" shoes with magenta and alabaster accents that cost more than one hundred damn dollars? And why is this happening on the day when my steps double to two freaking miles. I'm coming into the home-stretch of this walk with only a couple-hundred steps left, but I can't get home fast enough because my freaking feet hurt. I'm walking as fast as I can trying to get to the house. If you can't read between the lines I'll fill you in on a secret ... I am one unhappy senior-citizen-person who is no longer walking on sunshine. And now I'm sure that low-end, ordinary looking UPS guy was wincing with gas instead of winking at me.
So, it’s one foot in front of the other to the finish line!
My training routine calls for me to walk four days, then take two days off. I walked four this week, then took off yesterday; Thursday, December 1st. Technically, I'm supposed to take off today. However, there are a lot of reasons telling me to get dressed and take to the road. First of all, I feel great ... I'm not sore, the Fibromyalgia is behaving, I want to walk, the Fitbit challenge ends today, and the overwhelming reason is that the cute little UPS guy smiled when he delivered what is hyped to be my PERFECT PAIR OF SHOES!
Look out neighbors I'll be coming down the road wearing an "off blue" pair of Brooks GTS 16 running shoes with magenta and alabaster trim. Does that not just make you drool with excitement? In reality that shoe is blueish-green, with pink and white trim. However, stating the shoe is blueish-green with pink and white trim means you can only charge about $59. But you add those other descriptive words and the price jumps to $149.95. Then, call it a GTS 16 and everybody has visions of a jacked up, suped-up car every teenage boy wanted, and in which every teenage girl wanted to be seen. Here's where I burst the bubble ... GTS means "Go To Shoe." Hey, cute little UPS man, please take these back and bring me the $59 version. Alas, he grinned, said "no', and winked. He winked! I caved. I'll keep them, because - after all - these are "perfect shoes."
Did I mention that moving forward from today, I increase my walking by one mile on the first day that I walk each month? Today it's two perfect miles in my new perfect shoes. So with the press of a button on my Fitbit Blaze, I'm off and walking in my perfect shoes.
To quote the oldie but goodie song; "I'm walking on sunshine." The air has a bit of a chill, but not too much. The sun is peaking through the clouds just enough to make me feel healthy. I'm say "good morning" to the sanitation workers, the cop riding his bike through the neighborhood, and my mailman who wants to know why I wasted money on the UPS that guy I'm sure should be Mr December on the UPS calendar wearing nothing but fuzzy green earmuffs.
And then it happens ... I can feel that I stepped on a rock. Through the soles of these perfect shoes, I can feel a rock. That sunshine upon which I was walking, has become cloudy with a chance of rain. A few more steps, and a lot more rocks, with some feeling like giant boulders.
What has happen to these "off blue" shoes with magenta and alabaster accents that cost more than one hundred damn dollars? And why is this happening on the day when my steps double to two freaking miles. I'm coming into the home-stretch of this walk with only a couple-hundred steps left, but I can't get home fast enough because my freaking feet hurt. I'm walking as fast as I can trying to get to the house. If you can't read between the lines I'll fill you in on a secret ... I am one unhappy senior-citizen-person who is no longer walking on sunshine. And now I'm sure that low-end, ordinary looking UPS guy was wincing with gas instead of winking at me.
So, it’s one foot in front of the other to the finish line!
Monday, November 28, 2016
Up With The Sunshine
I had an incredibly great walk this morning. That's right MORNING. For those who know me well, I am not now, have never been, and never will be a morning person. I was born at night and it's how my clock works. I despise seeing the light of day before 10am. I will admit that once I moved into management in the News Department of WDAM-TV I - reluctantly - made it to the office, and was making coherent decisions, by 9am. I'll also give myself - to quote Donald Trump - a "HUGE" pat on the back for getting up at 5am during that time period and making it to the Laurel High School track to walk two miles every day. That was a very long time ago when I believed I could conquer anything.
With all of that said, I hit the street at 6:33am today. Not only did I walk, but I did my mile in record time for me ... 25-minutes. I found a new function on my Fitbit Blaze Mother bought for me. In the running program it syncs with my iPhone GPS to chronicle my walking time, my mileage, heart rate, stride length, and - the coolest function - it traces my route on a map within the app on my phone. My watch and its capabilities were the talk of the day at the tea Mother and I hosted. Each of the ladies, all friends of my mother, was impressed with the watch and the way it "talked" to the cell phone. They thought the watch was unbelievable and that I was a computer and technology wiz. I didn't let them in on the secret that I don't know half of what this watch can do, and it was just luck that I figured out this GPS mapping function. I even wear the Fitbit to bed because it gives me all sorts of details about my sleep. I suppose it's a good thing there is no man in my bed, because I don't even want to think what this piece of wearable technology would track.
But I digress ... back to my walk. It was a brisk fall morning, by South Louisiana temperatures, with bursts of wind in my face for most of my walk. I got to say "good morning" to neighbors leaving for work, to others walking their dogs or retrieving the morning paper, and to the busy trash and recycling collectors. The morning has a unique look to the sky and the light from the sun. I really enjoyed walking at this time of day which usually finds me cuddled up to my memory foam pillows in my memory foam bed. While enjoyable, this will not become a regular occurrence. I only changed my schedule because my friendly neighborhood weather woman said it was going to storm tonight, which it did not. And only because I know this meteorologist will I heed her pronouncement of severe storms tomorrow night, and again hit the road at the most unpleasant time of 6am. And since that is only 4.5 hours from now, I'm going to stop writing and start sleeping.
BTW ... my new walking shoes are scheduled to arrive tomorrow. Let's please hope and pray that this pair is the pair that pairs well with my pair of feet. (please forgive the previous sentence ... I've been awake far too long.
So, it’s one foot in front of the other to the finish line!
With all of that said, I hit the street at 6:33am today. Not only did I walk, but I did my mile in record time for me ... 25-minutes. I found a new function on my Fitbit Blaze Mother bought for me. In the running program it syncs with my iPhone GPS to chronicle my walking time, my mileage, heart rate, stride length, and - the coolest function - it traces my route on a map within the app on my phone. My watch and its capabilities were the talk of the day at the tea Mother and I hosted. Each of the ladies, all friends of my mother, was impressed with the watch and the way it "talked" to the cell phone. They thought the watch was unbelievable and that I was a computer and technology wiz. I didn't let them in on the secret that I don't know half of what this watch can do, and it was just luck that I figured out this GPS mapping function. I even wear the Fitbit to bed because it gives me all sorts of details about my sleep. I suppose it's a good thing there is no man in my bed, because I don't even want to think what this piece of wearable technology would track.
But I digress ... back to my walk. It was a brisk fall morning, by South Louisiana temperatures, with bursts of wind in my face for most of my walk. I got to say "good morning" to neighbors leaving for work, to others walking their dogs or retrieving the morning paper, and to the busy trash and recycling collectors. The morning has a unique look to the sky and the light from the sun. I really enjoyed walking at this time of day which usually finds me cuddled up to my memory foam pillows in my memory foam bed. While enjoyable, this will not become a regular occurrence. I only changed my schedule because my friendly neighborhood weather woman said it was going to storm tonight, which it did not. And only because I know this meteorologist will I heed her pronouncement of severe storms tomorrow night, and again hit the road at the most unpleasant time of 6am. And since that is only 4.5 hours from now, I'm going to stop writing and start sleeping.
BTW ... my new walking shoes are scheduled to arrive tomorrow. Let's please hope and pray that this pair is the pair that pairs well with my pair of feet. (please forgive the previous sentence ... I've been awake far too long.
So, it’s one foot in front of the other to the finish line!
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