Friday, November 5, 2010

Why I don't have A Daily Walk

Every morning, on the School Commute (which, if you'll remember I don't make in mah jammies - despite intense longing to do so) I see two very intrepid speed walkers. They're weather-appropriate and always look involved in some sort of engaging conversation. Sometimes, she's nodding and listening. Other times, he laughs and responds. (I can't be sure of specifics since that stretch of road is 55 and I'm usually clocking along at 60 or so.)

I usually think, "Man, they look cold" and then AFTER that, I think "it'd be nice if The Man and I could share daily walks and conversation."

Then, reality, with its snarky honesty intrudes and puts the kebosh on THAT idea.

Basically, we'd have to find a sitter, *early* in the morning, like 5 am style. You can't just leave two kids under the age of six ALONE. Sure, it's tempting, but illegal. Then, there's the slight problem that at 5 am I'm usually dreaming about steam mops or gambling at Mandalay Bay. But even if we overcame those pesky obstacles?

Well, The Man isn't exactly KNOWN for his shining morning personality. Frankly, in the best interest of Society at Large, I've suggested a No-Talking-Until-Noon-Moratorium, but so far he's resisted. Sorry, Society, I tried. Then, he'd most likely turn our Daily Walk into a Daily Competition. He'd stick that little gizmo on his shoe that he uses when he runs and he'd shout encouraging things at me as he faded into the distance...things like "you're not keeping on pace!" or "your stride is wrong!" And then *I* would shout back "I can't breathe you fascist!" and then I'd return to the house weeping. That is, if I didn't twist something or pull something or have the ASS-ma flare up and crawl off to die in a ditch like one of God's poor and imperfect creatures. Like an overweight woodchuck, I'd lie in my ditch until the sounds of The Man returned. When, like an angry wolverine (seriously)(the animal, NOT the X-Man) I'd attack his ankles for abandoning me.

The more I think about, the Happy Walking Couple is probably a nice single lady with a houseful of cats and her trusty Gay Boyfriend. They look WAY too cheerful for married people. And I'm not just saying that because I've been (or could have been)(or might be) left in a ditch to cry. (We live in a populated subdivision.)(I'm sure help would come for me.)(It's the principle.)

Comments, questions, do you and your sig other work out together?

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