Training Has Moved Up A Notch

The time had come to make the big jump from walking half-a-mile to a one mile journey. Over the past few days I thought about the move up and decided I didn't want to walk my usual half-mile course twice in one "training session." To me, that would be quite boring. Consequently, I got in the car and traced a new path.

I'm sure the neighbors thought either some crackpot was driving my car, or that I hit the drive-thru daiquiri place a few times before driving the streets of our neighborhood. For those unfamiliar with the great state of Louisiana, yes, we do having drive-thru's where you can buy frozen alcoholic drinks. And while there are drive-thru bars, to drink and drive is against the law. To enforce that law, the person at the drive-thru window is prohibited from placing the straw into the cup containing the frozen concoction. I'll leave you to ponder that logic when you're not reading my blog.

So back to my walking ... I criss-crossed my neighborhood streets, trying to make a new, 1-mile, course to follow for the next month. I made U-turn circles at corners, backed up a couple times, and pressed the trip odometer several times. Finally, I had my course, which consisted of an "oval" and a "figure 8." Now to make the march.

I was expecting the best and not wanting to prepare for the worst; but just in case, I had my cell phone ready to call a neighbor if needing a quick ride home. I stepped out the door, took a deep breath, pressed the stopwatch on my Fitbit, and moved forward. The first half mile was a piece of cake. As I started my "figure 8" I began to feel the burn in my legs and a pronounced ache in my back. Remember, I am facing multiple spine surgeries in 2017. I kept at it, moving forward. As I was turning into what I call the "homestretch," I reached for my cell phone, then removed my hand from my fanny-pack. I kept walking, and walking, taking big gulps of air until I reached my driveway. I reached to my wrist to press the button on my Fitbit's stopwatch. As I leaned over trying to catch my breath I looked at my Fitbit. Somehow or another I managed to say out loud, "Damn, 29-minutes, 30-seconds."

Not only had I survived the first one-mile walk, I had done it under the needed 30-minutes. I was happy, I was pleased, and I was tired. I also was in need of a shower.

So, it’s one foot in front of the other to the finish line!