This Bod was Made for Walking

I have a vague (aren't they all vague, K?), early, childhood memory, of going camping with my folks, and the possible stops along the way to hike--if the trail invited. And by "invited" I mean due to either by its name, the promised site and/or the length. Plus, it seemed that nearly every childhood activity included a walk. Whether it was the uphill (seems like it was often uphill) walk to G'ma and G'pa Curley's house to run an errand, heading to a neighbor's house to play, or babysitting for the family with five sons. 

When I reached adolescence, a friend who lived in town and I, would start walking to each other at the same time. We'd meet in the middle and then head to either my house or hers. I can remember Mom getting concerned about me walking alone. And a classmate's mother stopped one day and tried to give me a ride. Didn't they remember that adolescent feeling of invincibility? 

I will admit to a shady encounter on a walk back home from my friend's house once. And there were probably consequences when I shared with Mom afterwards--though that particular friendship was always a "bone of contention" between me and my parents. My folks were usually open minded people, but they did have their opinions about how some people lived their lives. 

After high school, there were a few classmates who had stayed in town. We started getting together to go on a hike to a favorite waterfall on our days off. It was an unmarked trail that few used--which was probably part of the draw. We could take a small grill and steaks and have a little cook-out, while sitting at the top of that lovely little waterfall. 

Later on, after N and I met and married, we camped and hiked together, sharing our favorite places with each other. When I was pregnant with our first, I'd meet up with my sister-in-law, and we'd walk the "beach road" most days. Sometimes we'd join up with my Mom's walking group, though Mom always made it clear that they went fast and wouldn't wait for pregnant slow pokes. 

Sitting here writing, I've realized that the three years we lived near the coast, I did not walk much at all. There were visits to the beach, but it was different with a toddler. We'd play tag with the waves, look at the shells and play fetch with our Shiloh. 

Roseburg, was a different story. Another house, another hill ... PLUS a neighbor who wanted a walking partner. I have no idea of the length of that road. M and I, would go uphill, then turn, head back down to the bottom and back up again. And any poor soul, who happened to visit, would be persuaded to trek that hill along with me. Yes, even Mom. Neighbor D, drove past Mom and I, walking one day and couldn't help but comment on how our gaits were identical. 

When we finally arrived in Salem, the neighborhood didn't have anyone knocking at the door to welcome us or ask for a walking partner. This "big" city cowed me in the beginning. Eventually, we bought an exercise bicycle that was set up at the end of the couch in the living room. I'd hop on every weekday morning, before the rest of the house woke up, hook up my headphones to the VCR and pedal to All My Children, taped the day before. 

When the bicycle died, we bought our first treadmill. I honestly can't remember if we're on our second or third now. So many miles! Don't get me wrong, I do enjoy the occasional walk with a friend at a local park or joining N on a dog walk. My favorite, is still a long walk at the beach, but I like the consistency and benefits of a daily walk. And now? Now I'm digging these long walks, three days a week, with my cousin on a video call. Today, we walked for eighty minutes, but it felt like twenty. Time flies when you're chatting.

Love, K