I gave Shanks' Pony a bit of a work out this weekend. My feet and I went off for a walk in the State Park nearby. There is a steep path which I am trying to climb without stopping part way up. My theory is that my lungs will expand and heal my bronchitis more quickly, as well as getting some basic aerobic exercise which is good for body and mind.
I decided to spit out my mentholated cough suppressant candy as I was huffing and puffing up the hill. The park is quiet and the chances of finding another hiker to perform the Heimlich manoeuvre if I inhaled my bon bon instead of the oxygen I needed did not seem like a good gamble.
I survived my vertical challenge, getting further up on Sunday than I did on Saturday. Small achievable goals, patting self on back and tottering on into the flat meadowland for a cool-down circuit and a glimpse of the grazing deer before heading back down the hill.
On Saturday I was pooped out to the point of taking a two hour nap. On Sunday I napped for twenty minutes and headed out to weed the front garden. Seeing that it was only mid afternoon I drove to the Baylands and hiked some more. I like the Baylands, (the area is flat for starters), mainly for the varied light by the water and the ever-interesting variety of water fowl.
The shock of my weekend came in the form of a long cardboard box. When I ordered my rowing machine I was comforted that free shipping would take 7-9 days. Procrastinator that I am about this, I felt that the actual moment when I would have to try to make myself exercise routinely was somewhere in the hazy future. Not so! Twenty-four hours is all they gave me. I opened the front door on Saturday and there it was.
Now why, you may ask, is this post about hiking when there is a rowing machine story to be told? The answer, of course, is that there is an unopened cardboard box in the garage.
to be contd...